Musically Meeting
by Yamazing
Summary: A Hamilton story set in a more modern time. Alexander might make some friends, or he might just use their piano, who knows? But however it turns out, I bet it'll be fun to watch- er, read. I plan for lots of Lams and some side stuff of Hercules/Lafayette and Madison/Jefferson.
1. An Introduction

**I didn't actually want to name it this, but all of my Hamilton stories can and should be know as Yamilton stories. (Notice a pattern?)  
** **And yes, I do know that Hamilton didn't actually go to Princeton, but it works for the story so that's just how it's gonna be.**

* * *

I work a lot. Even I would call myself a workaholic. I admit, I have a problem. I spend most of my time alone in cafés on my computer, working. It is nice, however, that I don't need to worry about someone waiting on or worrying about me; I live alone in a run down apartment kind of close to the college I go to, Princeton. I've wanted to go to Princeton ever since I knew what it was. I grew up in a country where only a select few got to go to college at all, and many people who might've been able to go died before they were old enough to. I was certainly on track to become one of those people in my old town, but I wanted more. Me: never satisfied with the opportunities given.

So I made myself more opportunities. I took hold of the talent I had at writing, used it to get me out of a place that I'm sure would've made achieving the life I wanted impossible.

And now I'm here. In New Jersey. An amazing place. Also a place that with not too much travel, I can go to New York City (which is, incidentally, where I spend most of my weekends and my favorite city.)

And I feel alive. That never used to happen before. In my birth-town life was so dull.

Nowadays, with all of my classes (I take as many as they'll let me) and my very, very part-time job, I don't often have any time that I can dedicate solely to relaxation. This might seem like a bad thing, but I like it. I'm sure I could make time if I wanted, sleep less than I already do or something. But I don't really want to. If I'm not busy, I think to hard and too long about too sad of things, and then I feel depressed and dull and useless. So I keep busy, and I don't sleep very much, as I mentioned earlier. Sometimes I'll start to be sad and dull no matter how hard I try to keep busy, and then it's always terrible, but that's a story for another time.

So I'm working, as usual, in New York for the weekend, as usual, when I see a piano, and I feel something that is very unusual. I started playing piano when I came into the United States, and even with my limited experience, I still managed to learn a lot and get much better.

Some people have told me that my playing is really beautiful, and it was probably true at that point, but I think that it was partially what song it was and partially how much feeling I put into my playing, rather than how much practice I had.

I continued to play piano until I came to New Jersey, where there weren't very many public pianos (there had been in other places) and people were more bothered by my playing than anything else. So I stopped playing piano as regularly as I used to and the urge to play every piano that I came across dimmed. Up until now, I haven't played the piano in about half a year.

But today I see a delightfully deserted piano around which there aren't any people, and I really, really want to play it. I'm afraid that people will come and ruin the piano's privacy, and the great feeling I've gotten along with it, so I quickly save things on my computer and shut it down. After I hurry outside, and into a courtyard of sorts, blocked by a fairly dense wall of trees (it's a wonder I saw the piano at all, I must have had the perfect angle) I set down my things and sit down. I don't have any music with me, so I pick one of the songs I once had perfectly memorized and hope that I'll still be able to play it at least fairly well from memory. I play the first chord, and after an initial strange feeling I get from not playing so long, the song comes back to me. It's not nearly as good as I'm sure it once was, but as I continue to play the song comes back to me.

I play it slower than usual, and I have a few mishaps, but it goes fairly well and I, at least, feel like I played it beautifully. I play it once more, with fewer mistakes, before I decide to try another song. I go on like this, playing each song once or twice before picking the next.

Eventually I run out of music I have memorized and slump down on the bench. I feel tired, but exhilarated, like I just went on a roller coaster or something. I kind of did, I guess. Playing the piano had always been such a great experience for me, but very emotional. Not playing it for so long must have been making me slowly sadder and more depressed without me even noticing.

I stand up from the piano, sad that I can't play anything else without music, but glad I got to play as much as I did. I pick up my things, slowly start to walk back to the coffee shop and resume my routine.

"Hey!" I hear from behind me.

I spin, startled, and almost drop my bag. I search the trees for the source of the greeting, but can see no one.

"Hello?" I call back, rather timidly. At least the coffee shop is near if I need to run, I assure myself.

"Over here," the same voice calls. I turn again, to the right this time, and see a man emerge from the wall of trees, the ones on the side I didn't come from.

"That was beautiful," he says.

"Ok…" And awkward pause. "Who are you?"

"Lafayette," he answers readily. "Would you, uh, like to play that on a better piano?"  
This could be considered really creepy, but I find myself longing to play the piano more, and a nicer one would be great.

"Where?" I ask. If he tries to take me into a building I swear I will run.

"There's a dormitory near here that has a piano in the lobby. It works really well, I've played it myself a couple of times."  
I shouldn't. I really shouldn't. But…

If I don't see anyone inside or he takes me through an empty area on the way, I swear I'll run. I will, really.

But I want to play the piano so badly.

"Ok," I finally give in. "Take me there."

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 **Please leave reviews if you have _any_ opinion at all on this story.**


	2. And Then They Meet

We walk together for a couple of minutes, passing the coffee shop I was at today and I couple I've been to before.

So far, he hasn't done anything suspicious and all of the streets we've used have been central and crowded, so I've continued to follow him, if slightly warily.

"We're almost there, it's just a couple of blocks south," he finally says, breaking the silence.

"Ok."

We continue to walk, and I busy myself with taking in the city. I don't normally just walk around and see the sights, and we have nothing to talk about, so I figure it's just something that will take away (at least for me) from the awkwardness.

Even though New York City is supposed to be very urban, there are a lot of pretty nature-y things to observe. I look at the flowers planted in front of people's' houses, and at the trees that frame the road, among other things, and when I get bored with that I look at the people.

The people. There are so many types. There are people that look like they're in circumstances a lot like mine, people I identify with, and people who look to be the exact opposite. There are people that I can't seem to think of as at all on the same level as I am. There are so many different people, and I really think it's great how diverse the streets are.

I find that people watching takes up the whole rest of the walk, and I'm still observing random strangers when Lafayette announces that, "We're here!"

"Oh," I respond, surprised out of my slightly dazed state. All I can think to do is repeat him.

"We're here."

He looks amused, like he's not sure exactly what I'm thinking, but that I'm still funny to watch.

I take a moment to admire the building. A brick building, one of the type that seems to have been made in an older time but is still in great condition. It's definitely very fancy, so the piano is probably also. My excitement to play the piano grows.

"Would you like to go in? Or..."

I realize he's opened the door for me, and I start to walk before I remember my promise to look for people, to see if there's enough people who look nice inside that I'll probably be safe going in. I crane my neck to look into the windows. In almost every single one, I can see someone doing something innocent looking, like being on there computer or dancing around the room, seemingly singing too. That second example almost makes me laugh, but I catch myself. I'm sure it'd look weird if I started randomly laughing at a window.

"Sure," I answer after what I hope isn't too long of a pause. "Where's the piano?"

He points to a corner blocked from my sight, and I move so it's in my view.

I want to play it immediately.

It looks magnificent. New, untarnished, beautiful.

I take an unconscious step towards it, and Lafayette steps out of my way. I'm sure I look ridiculous, my mouth wide open, shell-shocked by something as simple as a nice piano. I continue to walk towards it, captured by its beauty.

"I just want to hear your music again,so I'll leave you to it."

I finish my trip to the magnificent instrument. I stand in front of it for a while, admiring. I can't get over how beautiful it is.

Well, I realize, looking at it won't do me any good. I mentally shake myself out of my motionless state, and sit down. The seat is also luxurious; among other things, I can see ornate patterns around the edges and the cushion is perfect. I sink into it a little when I sit down, but not so much that it would affect my playing negatively.

I played through all of my memorized music earlier, so I look around the top of the piano for something I can play. Conveniently, there's a book of popular songs that seems to be at a good level for me. I pick it up and turn to a random page towards the beginning. Before I start to play, of course, I have to look through the music. I'm happily surprised by how perfect its amount of difficulty is.

I'm a little bit nervous to play in front of people, there are some people hanging out in this room, seemingly the lobby, and I usually try to play alone. Now, especially, when I'm so out of practice, I'm nervous, but I remind myself that I was brought here specifically because Lafayette liked my music, and that playing the piano is worth the possible embarrassment.

I take a deep breath, play through the song in my head in preparation, and finally begin to play.

It turns out I had almost no reason to worry, I play the song pretty smoothly since I know how it sounds and I don't even feel the need to go through and play it again. After I'm done, I turn the page, and since the music still looks good for me to play, I play through another song. This one goes just as well, if not a little bit better, so I turn the page again. Play another song. And another. After I've played about six songs, some people have come down from their rooms, and my confidence level had gone up marginally. I play another few songs before I hear it.

Singing. Coming from the bathroom off to the side. Someone's belting the lyrics to my music. I'm so surprised I almost stop playing, but after a minor slip up I continue on with the song. I'm confused for awhile as to why someone is singing in the bathroom along to my piano music, before I decide that maybe it's someone who sings in the shower (never done that myself), and that maybe he's just really cocky.

He does have a really good voice though.

It becomes a little bit funny. After I finish the song I take a moment to have a little laugh in my head before I resume playing. I find myself starting the next song in hopes that I'll get to hear his voice again.

After a second he obliges to my wish. This song is in a different range, a little bit lower than the last, and his singing is even better. He apparently knows all of the words by heart, as he commences to sing all the way through the song, even after he's turned off the shower (a noise I didn't know I was hearing in the background stopped) and is still singing along with it as he enters the lobby, fully clothed but with long wet hair hanging down his back.

He's almost halfway to the stairs, everyone already having noticed him because of his aforementioned singing, before he finally stops to notice them. His eyes widen slowly as he takes in the congregation around no other that me, sitting at the piano, staring back at him.

"Hey, Johnny boy. Come over and say hi to the new kid."

I turn around to see who spoke, already suspecting Lafayette because of the slight French accent that I noticed while he was talking to random people and I was playing. It is indeed him, and before I can think anything else, I hear a response.

"He live here now?" It's shower boy, as expected. Maybe John. Or Johnny? Eh… Probably John.

"Nope, just playing for us." Lafayette shoots back.

"Ok, I'll be back down in a second."

He turns around to go back up the stairs, still just as cocky as I'd expected, but during his retreat I notice a barely there red tint creeping down his neck and encompassing his ears entirely. Cute.

Now that he's gone, I think about what just happened, and I almost can resist the urge to burst out laughing. I figure I deserve something, so I let myself chuckle for a second before going back to being straight-faced.

I turn around to start a conversation with Lafayette because I don't want to play the piano anymore, and he's the only person I know. Talking with him is fun, but if I'm being honest, I'm just passing the time until I get to meet "Johnny boy" again. I'm sure it'll be fun.


	3. New Friends, New Pianos

**This is the chapter where the pairing might become apparent for some of you, so I'm sorry if you don't ship it but... nothing I can do, I Yam who I Yam. (I didn't think up that beautiful phrase, a friend did.)**

* * *

A couple of minutes later, I see him re-emerge from the stairwell, hair just a little bit dryer, but now pulled up into a messy, wet bun instead of down like it was.

"I'm back!" He calls.

A chorus of greetings erupt from the crowd still gathered near the piano.

"So who's he?" He asks, clearly referring to me. I expect Lafayette to answer, but as a few seconds pass it's clear he doesn't plan to.

I manage to splutter out something unintelligible, before deciding I'm not doing anything good, and stopping.

"He have a name, or…?" He finally asks

"Alexander. Uh, Hamilton." I try again. It works this time!

"Oh. Well hi Alex. Can I call you Alex?" Not waiting for an answer, he continues. "My name is John Laurens. I'm clearly the nicest and most popular person in this dorm so bow before me."

I find myself formulating an actual response, so I let myself speak again.

"Yeah, Alex is fine. I'm not so sure about that second thing, have you met me? And I'll stay on the piano, thanks."

He seems surprised that I actually responded in a coherent way to his strange introduction, especially after my first attempt at words.

A beat passes, and then he smiles, laughs. This makes me smile, and we have an awkward bout of smiling. After we've both gotten it out of our systems, he speaks again.

"So was that you playing earlier?" I think I might see the lightest hint of a blush, but I don't know why he might be blushing and it's practically not there, so I assume I'm imagining it.

"Yeah."

A moment of silence.

I'm so awkward. Doing nothing to forward the conversation, that's me.

Lafayette saves us, some seconds later.

"He played some beautiful classical songs earlier, I heard him playing one of the public pianos."

I blush, which I'm sure is very noticeable on me, it's just the kind of person I am.

"You should play them here!" someone suggests from the dwindling crowd.

"Yeah, you should," says John.

"Oh, uh sure. What should I play?" I aim the last question to Lafayette, since he's the only one who's heard me play, but it's not him who answers.

Instead, John speaks. "Do you know how to play Fur Elise? I know it's not the most complicated, but it's really pretty and I have a soft spot for it. It would be really nice if you could play it."

I'm surprised how much he talked, he hasn't really talked much to me yet. It's kind of endearing that he opened up to me about a song of all things, albeit a very nice and well known song. With that thought in mind it takes me a moment to actually process.

"Oh! Yes, of course I do, but it'll be pretty rusty."

"I don't care if it's rusty. If you would play it, I would be really grateful."

"Ok. Sure, I'll play it."

Lafayette chimes in. "After that, can you play Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven? I've been trying to get these guys to listen to classical music for a long time, but they keep on protesting. You played that song well earlier, and I gotta take the opportunity while they're here."

"Sure. But first, Fur Elise."

I try to remember how exactly it goes. I don't want to play it badly, and ruin the song that John loves.

"We, uh, have the music… If you want it…" John offers.

"That would be great, actually."

Thank goodness. He gets out the music, puts it on the piano gingerly.

"Thank you for the music," I smile up at him

"Thank you for playing," he smiles back

To avoid another bout of awkward smiling, I look at the music and skim it over. It doesn't look to hard, even if I hadn't played before, and since I have, I'm fairly certain I'll play it well. And just in case, I'm prepared to put as much feeling as needs be to make it sound beautiful.

I start playing. John smiles kind of sadly and sits down near the piano, I assume to hear it as well as is possible.

When I'm playing an especially beautiful song, and I'm playing it particularly well, I can get very lost in playing. This happens today with Fur Elise.

The great thing about Fur Elise is how you can really play it your own way. Some songs have to be played a certain way to sound good, but there are so many ways to play Fur Elise and if you're putting yourself into it, it almost definitely sounds good.

I play Fur Elise so _me_ -like that I get completely lost in it. I'm sad to come down from the wherever I was, up in the clouds of piano land, when the song ends.

So I don't.

Immediately after I finish Fur Elise, I make as smooth a transition as I can into Moonlight Sonata. I play through that one, which is slower and longer, and I make it beautiful as well. I play and I play, and when I finish, I have the feeling that if there were people watching they would definitely be clapping right about-

I hear clapping.

There are people.

I'm missing something, aren't I?

I look around, dazed, at the faces of some college kids, standing around my piano. Why are they standing around my piano?

It's their piano, isn't it?

I remember everything. It's not even really that I _forgot_ the events of today, it's just that I lost myself so completely in the music I forgot _everything_ except for the piano. Even myself. This thought makes me snap out of my confused state.

They're clapping. For me.

I stand up and smile, trying to conceal the part of me that still lies with the piano. A little while later, the crowd has dwindled again, and I find myself sitting with Lafayette, John, and two other people I don't know.

John and Lafayette congratulate me a lot, before relaxing back into conversation with their friends. I sit next to them a while, my smile growing as I replay how I felt playing the piano over and over and over. I try to follow their conversation when I think my mind is clear enough to, but I find with all the names and places I don't know, I get confused very easily.

I sit there for a little bit longer, just listening to the sounds of my new.. Friends, I guess. Maybe not, but it makes me happy so I'll believe it for the time being.

And it really is a happy thought for me. I've never had a group of friends before, and while John and Lafayette aren't so many, or very close, it's more than I've had before.

After my cozy feeling lessens (not too much, just enough for me to actually think) I remember that I actually have things to do.

I check the time. I have a bad feeling as I look up to the clock. I have to be back in New Jersey before tomorrow because it's a Sunday and I have school, and the last bus leaves at 8:30.

It's 8:38.

Oh crap.

I fly into a panic, jumping out of my seat at the couch and emitting a high-pitched squeak.

I might still be able to catch the bus. If it's late-

"What happened?" I don't register who asked the question, I'm so hysteric.

"I'm sorry, I don't have time. I need to catch my bus to New Jersey, I'm not going to catch it, I just can't-"

At this point I just stop talking, sit down again on the couch, and start freaking out.

I splutter, babble unintelligibly, and may have even shed a couple of discreet tears.

After that fifteen seconds or so breakdown, I get back up, and gather up my stuff.

I yell bye to everyone and start running to the nearest bus stop.

"Wait!" I hear from behind me.

I don't have time to stop running, so I don't stop.

"What?"

"I have a car."

This stops me. I turn around and see John behind me.

"Yeah, it'll get you there faster, and… well, for now let's just go."

"Ok. Lead the way."

He turns right and runs to a door. I follow. Once we're inside, I see that we're now in a parking garage, probably for the dorm. He runs over to an average looking car, unlocks it, and gets in. I follow.

Once we're in the car headed towards the stop, I finally relax, just a little.

"What'll you do if the bus has already come?" He asks once we've both gotten our breaths back.

"I don't know," I reply.

He looks away from me for a second.

"You could, um... Well, I could drive you, I guess."

Seeing my surprised face, he hastily adds, "But only if you want me to, of course."

"That would be really nice. Thank you." I hope I sound genuine, he deserves to know how kind he's being.

He looks relieved. "Ok, glad I could help."

We sit in an only slightly uncomfortable silence (which is pretty good for only having met today, with my social skills) until he speaks again.

"Thank you so much for playing Fur Elise for me. You played it super well, it was beautiful." A pause. "You should keep on playing piano. If you wanted to play it on the dorm's piano, even, that would be super great."

"No problem, and thanks for the offer. I might just take you up on that."

And when we get to the bus stop almost twenty minutes late, and wait for about ten more before deciding we were too late, I'm not too bothered.

In fact, the prospect of spending an hour with him sounds quite nice.


	4. Talk, Think, Feel

**I put a part in this chapter about the Orlando shooting because the shooting broke my heart and I think it deserved to be mentioned. I'll never understand how someone could do something like that.**

* * *

At first it's really awkward. It's hard, spending time with someone you don't know very well with no distractions for an hour.

It gradually gets better though. Every once in awhile we talk, but a lot of the time we just sit there together in silence, and even that starts to become nice. As we go on, the "awkward" silences became less and less awkward, more relaxed. They also just become _less_. Once we become okay with having occasional silences, we started to talk more, for some reason.

We spend some time at the beginning of the ride just becoming more acquainted with each other. I tell him about my bad habits concerning work, he tells me about how he loves listening to piano but almost no one in his dorm knows, and few people play. This is nice to know, considering that it means I'll be able to make him happy relatively easily.

He asks about my past. I, of course, avoid talking about it in detail and pretty much just tell him that I'm a first generation immigrant. He doesn't start to suddenly pity me or make any snide remarks which is nice. He also doesn't push it when I don't tell him where I'm originally from, so I mentally tip my (imaginary) hat to him.

During a particularly comfortable silence (we ended our discussion on a great note, connecting about music, and now he's humming a song I don't know, but am beginning to like) I find myself thinking about what I'm going to do in the future.

Specifically, I think about how I've made some new friends but they're an hour away and the friendship may be completely one sided. It's true that I would continue to visit them even if none of us had become friends, just for their piano and the fact that I'm near them most weekends anyways, but I should _probably_ take the people aspect into consideration.

As I mentioned, I've never had any really close friends, "best" friends if you will. Friends that I could actually talk with about almost anything, if not everything, without fearing unnecessarily harsh judgement. So, because of this, I think I deserve to be able to call myself a total social amateur.

It's just that I don't know how to interact with people unless it's in a professional environment. I'm afraid that even if I do my best to accommodate and satisfy my new friends, they won't like me. And I'm pretty sure, even with my lack of experience, that I don't want to have that kind of relationship. I mean, I definitely _want_ to get to know them all better, but I just don't know if they feel the same way.

I sink into my insecurities for a couple of minutes, slowly convincing myself that I should probably just not see them again, and that that's probably what they want anyways, before John unknowingly saves me.

"I was just thinking," he starts, "about the shooting in Orlando, and just in general about discrimination. Isn't it terrible how much hate there is in our world? Why can't people just be nice, maybe even try to make friends, like us?"

The part about making friends fills me with joy, but I have thoughts on that topic too.

I think he might be testing me in a way, making sure I'm not a person who discriminates. It makes sense; if I was that kind of a person, and I was also, coincidentally, him, I would want to know about someone's stand on discrimination. I might even want to call off the forming friendship; I just don't think that I could continue to be friends with a person who would discriminate, possibly against _me._

"It is. I don't understand how people can want to _kill_ for any reason, much less something that might be a problem to them, but isn't really. _They_ might not be able to see that it isn't a problem, but that doesn't mean that they should want to kill, or even just hurt people. I mean, putting more hate and sadness into the world isn't going to do any good at all. Why can't they see that?"

He nods his head in agreement, and we spend a moment in silence, both, I'm sure, thinking about how sad the world can be.

We find it hard to transition back into conversation after that solemn subject, but I think that talking about it was good for us and worth it. Now I know him better, and vice versa. Plus, we've only got about ten more minutes on the road, so I'm sure we'll be able to survive.

A couple of minutes later, I speak again.

"Thank you for giving me a ride, I hope it wasn't too inconveniencing."

"You're welcome, but it really wasn't a problem. I hope you come visit us again, if only for our piano."  
"Yeah. I'm sure I'll come again, to enjoy your _company_ ," I give him a pointed, fake-scolding look, "among other things."

"Uhuh."

He chuckles and smiles sheepishly sideways at me.

I smile back and turn forwards again, watching him out of the corner of my eye. I'm still smiling, and so is he.

After a moment, he also turns forward and goes back to concentrating on the road. Smart.

Soon, I see my street come into view and relay this to John.

"Cool," he replies. Adopting a melodramatic, woeful tone, he continues, "I guess this is where we must part."

"Ah, but alas, it must be true."

We share a look, both wearing dramatic faces still, before bursting into giggles.

He pulls into my driveway. Using our strange fashion we've adopted, he gets up, walks across to my side and mimes opening my door. He mimes it because I've already opened the door at this point. Now while the effect may have been lessened slightly, it's the thought that counts. He then bows, and combined with a sweeping motion towards my house it compels me to say, "Why sir, how posh of you. Thank you very much."

"Of course."

I step, as delicately as I can, down from the car and fake a curtsy.

Soon, when I straighten up, he's still bowing.

"Farewell kind sir." I say.

He rights himself. "Farewell."

I walk over to the door of my apartment. Once I reach said door, I turn back to see him still looking at me. I raise my eyebrows and he shrugs. I put finding the possible reasons aside in favor of waving to him. He waves back, and after a couple of seconds of waving, I turn around and open the door to my apartment. I walk up a staircase or two, devoid of thought, before actually trying to find _my_ door.

Once I've reached my apartment, I plop down onto my bed and recover for a moment. I'm not used to being so social, especially in just one day.

After I've had a moment, I begin to process everything that happened today. I start with the most recent thing on my mind.

I spend a while trying to think of John's reason for still looking at me when I turned back, but I soon make myself stop for three reasons. One: It's entirely possible he was just thinking or something, and that it had nothing to do with me; two: I shouldn't get stuck, thinking about his actions, or at least I should wait until I know him better; and three: I have almost no hope of deciphering anyone's reason for anything, even my own sometimes, so I really shouldn't attempt to think of his.

After I've given that up, I move onto the subject of the piano playing. I let myself indulge in the memory of how I felt for a moment before telling myself that if I want that again, I'll have to be a brave, social person.

Then I think about Lafayette. He was really nice, inviting me to his dorm to play the piano, introducing me to his friends. He's pretty much to blame for the whole debacle (in a good way, of course) so I should thank him again, the next time I see him.

And I've decided, at least for now, that there _will_ be a next time. Sure, it terrifies me, but I should expand my horizons and all that kind of stuff.

It really will be terrifying though.

I fall asleep thinking about the next time. I think of possible scenarios, people I might meet. Eventually my thoughts land on John again. I really do want to get to know him better.

Content but exhausted, I fall asleep with a hint of a smile still on my face.


	5. Doubts

**So I think I'm going to start updating on a schedule. Unless it turns out to be a terrible idea, I plan to update Tuesdays and Fridays from now on. Yayy for schedules and normalcy.**  
 **Now, go! Read! Fly!**

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When I wake up the next morning the happy from yesterday is still with me. That is, it's still with me until I see the clock. It tells me, as I feared, that I've overslept. A lot.

I'm so tired that I consider just staying home today. Every once in awhile it's okay for me to take a short break, I'm sure, but even so I usually don't. I'm just an uptight person who can't deal with lagging behind in school. And that's okay. So, as usual, I get ready, if maybe a little bit faster than normal.

I arrive at my second class about ten minutes late, but pretty much no one notices because of the type of class it is. it's not the best kind of class, and having all of my classes be lectures kind of sucks, but they were the only type of classes I could find. I hope, next year maybe, to find some more specialized, seminar-like classes. I'd even transfer colleges if I had to.

But for now, these are the classes I have access to, so I try to squeeze every last drop of learning from them that I'm able to. I just have to deal with what I have until I can get myself something better. And I will, I'm sure, get myself something better. Someday soon.

I take a seat in the back, and begin trying to learn. After class, I try to think of what I learned today for an assignment, but find that everything I learned has completely left me.

I can, however, remember thinking about yesterday and my new friends. I guess I was distracted. I can only hope it doesn't become a problem.

It becomes a problem. A big, consistent, problematic one.

Three days of going to class and I've only learned what I normally would've in one. I really need to get my head back in the game; I'm going to fail the assignment I got on Monday, and surely with my luck there was an assignment assigned when I wasn't paying attention.

I spend all of Wednesday after school trying to think of a solution, a way to silence the part of me that longs to hang out with my new friends again, at least during school. I can only think of one thing, which is that if I can't remember things, I can at least take really detailed notes, even more intensely than I usually do, so that when I look at them at least I'll have _something._ Even that isn't much really, so I also decide to try to forget about my friends with all of my energy until this week of school ends.

Thursday and Friday pass with me actually learning again, albeit slightly less than normal. Taking detailed notes turns out to help me a lot, and I decide that I'll do it more often from now on.

After school on Friday, I'm so glad to go back to New York that I've already packed what I need (in the morning) and I just head to my normal bus stop as soon as I'm done. I end up waiting about twenty minutes despite my rush out of school, but I don't mind too much. I can use them.

So, of course, I use these to unnerve myself.

 _What if they don't really want me to come? Sure, John said that_ he _did, but he doesn't speak for everyone. And he could be lying. Plus, maybe they meant that they wanted me to come_ sometimes. _It hasn't even been a full week and I'm already coming back to visit them. I bet they'll think I'm imposing, inconsiderate, and weird._

I almost turn back, just leave and go back to my apartment. But I almost always spends my weekends in NYC, and I don't even have to go see them, so I keep on waiting for the bus.

I mentally berate myself the whole time before the bus finally arrives.

After I get onto the bus, I still have an hour to convince myself that they'll be fine with me coming, maybe even happy. And I try doing that for about five minutes, I do. But I soon realize that there's nothing I can do and that I'm absolutely hopeless.

I can't stand to be alone with my sad thoughts for the rest of the hour, so, as usual, I get out a book. I'm happily sucked into the book's fictional world, forgetting about _my_ problems in favor of seeing someone else deal with theirs. At least I'm sure that _they'll_ get a relatively happy ending on some level, unlike my how unsure I am about _my_ life.

I read until my internal clock, which I've developed through taking the same trip many times, tells me to start watching for my stop. I regretfully put down my book in time to get off of the bus. The book is getting really good, so once I'm off the bus I sit down at the nearest bench and resume reading.

Soon the transition to night starts, bringing with it the darkening of the sky, and I start to have trouble reading. I get to the end of my chapter, before reluctantly putting down my book. Once I'm back in the real world, I realize I've yet to book a motel for the night.

I end up going to an inexpensive but worn-down motel near the dorm. I have to resist the urge to pop into the dorm for a visit, but I tell myself that now is not the time and that I can do that tomorrow. After I book the motel for two nights, I go to the nearest coffee shop and start on Monday's assignment that, through my notes, I can finally work on. I work there for a couple of hours, finishing the one assignment, before retiring to the motel for the night.

The next morning, after I wake up, I decide to go to a gym. I'm not much of an exercising person, but I figure that it might be a good way to start my day and a nice time to free up my mind. Then I'll be able to decide when I'll attempt to socialize with my new friends again.

I look up the nearest gym on my phone, and find that it's a comfortable walking distance away.

After a nice walk, and some time to think, I reach the gym. However, by then I've started my day out nicely and had time to think already, so I don't go into the gym.

I take a roundabout route to one of my favorite coffee shops (which just so happens to be in the area of the dorm. Coincidence? Yes! It is! Don't question me.) all the while still questioning my plan.

I finally officiate my plan in my mind, deciding once and for all that since I want to see my friends again so much, I should use them as a reward. I'll force myself to go to the coffee shop and edit my assignment a tiny bit, until it's perfection. Then, I'll start on another one of the essays that's due sooner than the others, and try to get about half done. After that, if it's not too late, I'll finally let myself go and visit the dorm. I'm not even really sure if I'll be able to find it- I don't remember the exact location- but I can at least try.

Once I get to the coffee shop, I open my computer and get to work.

* * *

 **I know, I know, that was a kind of dull chapter. But more is to come, and it was kind of in between the chapters of action, so forgive me. Sorry! *turns away sheepishly***  
 **But really, thank you all for reading, I really appreciate it. I'm honestly quite proud of this fic, so I hope y'all enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it, or, quite honestly, enjoyed it at all. :)**  
 **I live to serve, as always. And I always have and always will appreciate reviews (thanks Bluecookiedough and Neeks!) so, uh, you should go do that. Byee!**


	6. The PARTAE

I quickly touch up on yesterday's work before moving onto the essay. I find that it's actually quite easy to write once I think of something to write _about_. I happen to think of a topic quickly, just by chance, so it ends up not taking as long as I expected. I get most of it done before I remember I wanted to go see my friends.

I decide to make myself finish a rough draft before I reward myself. I end up staying there for over an hour, because I can't resist editing. After I'm done and the essay is looking nice and edited, I look at the time. It's about 4:15.

I realize that even disregarding my desire to see my friends, I've been working for too long, especially since it's a weekend. Plus, I only have one more essay due in the few days, and another assignment due later in the week which I should be able to easily get done during the week. This means that with a couple more hours of work I'll be set for most of the week. And it's only a Saturday. And it's not even late.

This is clear proof of how I'm a workaholic.

I put away my computer, but even after stalling and trying to come to terms with it for almost a day, I'm still nervous to go see John and Lafayette. I decide to get some food, because when in doubt, eat. Not really, that's not a very good motto. But I'm hungry so it is for me right now.

I go up to the counter and get a bagel because coffee wouldn't be very good for me at this point. It'd for sure make me jittery since I've been working for so long and just because it does that to me.

I sit down by my stuff again and start eating my bagel. I take my extra time (which I refuse to spend thinking about my friends) to look around the shop. I don't often actually _look_ at the cafes I go to (I seem to have a habit of not looking at things), I just work and eat in them.

Looking around turns out to be a good thing- I hope- because I see one of the guys I talked with at the dorm last weekend. I think his name was Hercules. I also think I only remember his name because of how uncommon it is.

For a second, I just blatantly stare at him, perplexed. Quickly, I remember myself and the fact that staring would be weird if he noticed, and I look back down at my bagel.

Should I go up and talk to him? What if he doesn't remember me?

I spend a while taking discreet glances at him and hoping that maybe he'll approach me. After this doesn't work, at all, for so long that I'm forced to admit it probably still won't no matter how long I keep on doing it, I come to a decision.

I finish my bagel and get up to throw away the wrapper. I go the the trashcan nearest him, and throw it away. I spend a moment there, steeling my resolve, and turn around. I make my fateful way over to him. It's not a very long walk, but I still somehow manage to give up somewhere near halfway.

Just as I'm turning to go back to my table, he turn around towards me. I'm pretty sure I see recognition light up in his eyes, and this is proven by the fact that next he raises his hand in a beckoning and wave-like manner.

"Hey! You're that guy who played the piano, right?"

I open and close my mouth a couple of times. As you can see, I'm _really_ good at talking to people.

"Yeah. That's me. Alex…"

He smiles kind of confusedly at me.

"Oh, well… Hi! Would you like to come over and hang out at the dorm? John and Laf have been talking about how they wish you would come again, so that'd be nice and make them happy."

I don't think he realizes how much of a relief that is to me, if he's telling the truth. And I think he is, because there would be no reason to tell me that if it wasn't true.

I'm probably smiling super goofily right now, but I don't care.

"Sure! I just finished up what I wanted to get done today, so that'd be really fun."

"Cool. Want me to walk you there?"  
"Yeah, I don't know exactly where it is, so lead the way."

"I guess you've only been there once, so that makes sense. Maybe that'll change, eh?"

"I hope so."

We share a smile.

Man, everyone's so nice at that dorm! Or at least the three people I've really talked to. Okay so those numbers aren't _exactly_ the same, but I bet almost everyone, if not _actually_ everyone, is really nice.

He waits for me to get my stuff near the door. I walk up to him after I've picked up my computer bag, and then we start walking.

It turns out that I guessed the area of the dorm very accurately because the walk ends up being about three minutes. I'm grateful because me and Hercules end up having kind of stilted conversation, which I blame on the fact that we're not very acquainted.

We arrive at the dorm, and he bursts in, announcing my presence. It's kind of super nice and also kind of hilarious to watch.

In seconds, he has the whole room's attention on me. But since no one really knows me, most of them just go back to whatever they were doing before the interruption.

However, some of the more friendly, outgoing people, approach me.

They greet me and we talk about some stuff that I forget about immediately after because of how nervous I am. I don't have to be awkward for long, however (oh who am I kidding? I'll always be awkward), because soon I hear a voice coming down the stairwell.

"Did I hear someone say Alex is here?" John shouts from somewhere I can't see, his voice slightly muffled.

"Indeed, it is me!" I yell back.

I hear the thumps getting louder and faster. Moments later, John bursts into the room dramatically. He turns to me, his eyes bright and face red from, I'm assuming, running down the stairs.

"Hi," he says.

"Hi," I say back.

Lafayette bursts into the room, and I turn around, surprised.

"Mon ami! How are you? It's great to see you!"

His bubbliness makes me laugh, but he doesn't seem to be alarmed by my seemingly random laughing, which is nice.

"Hey-" I manage to greet him before he resumes talking, but that's all I get in. Which is fine. Some people might find it rude, but I like how talkative he is. It kind of compensates for how _not_ talkative I am, and it leaves little room for my inherent awkwardness.

"So me and some other people here were just thinking that we wanted to go swimming. Would you like to come?"

He kind of reminds me of an eager puppy (but don't be mistaken, I prefer cats), so it makes me sad to refuse him.

"I actually kind of hate swimming and large bodies of water in general so I'm good."

He looks, as I worried, kind of dejected. But, thankfully, he brightens up quickly.

"Sorry," I say because I feel bad, even if he seems happy again.

"No," he replies, "that's totally fine. I've decided I'm gonna stay and let those losers go to the pool without me. It's mean to them, I know, and they'll miss me, true, but it must be done."

"What? No! You should go, I don't want to take away from your swimming experience."

"But I can't leave you with the losers who aren't going!" he insists.

I grin.

"Oh fine," I finally let him have his way.

"Good. Just let me tell them."

He walks up the stairs, and John takes the chance to start up a conversation with me. Through our speech, I hear the sounds of dismay from the people Lafayette is letting down. I try to put it out of my mind, and focus on John.

"So, how've you been? It's been a whole _week_ ," he starts.

"I've been okay. It has been a long week though. You?"

"It's been a long week for me too. I," he hesitates at this point, looking down, "I was thinking how fun it would be to see you again."

Absolutely adorable. I wish everyone was as honest as him. I wish _I_ was as honest as him.

"Yeah, I was thinking the same thing."

Baby steps.

"Cool! Do you want to do something with me tomorrow? We could go hang out at the park and I could show you something cool."

"Sure, that sounds nice. Any chance you'll tell me what the 'cool' thing is?"

"Nope."

"Fiine." I say, drawing out the i sound and rolling my eyes jokingly.

He nods in fake sympathy.

"So… Why are you afraid of bodies of water? You don't have to tell me, of course."

"When I was younger something happened that-" I try again, "Let's just say that there was a hurricane involved and I survived but it was still terrifying."

"Oh… That sucks."

"Ye-"

I'm interrupted by Lafayette shouting from the stairs at (what I hope is, at least) max volume.

"I'm back! Are all the people I dictate as non-idiots ready to PARTAE?!"


	7. The PARTAE (really)

**The schedule's working well for me, so plan for updates Tuesdays and Fridays. I'm sorry if my party isn't very realistic, I lack experience. Don't hate me...**

* * *

There's a pause as everyone gets over the shock of, well, Lafayette.

"Ok so maybe it won't be _so_ partae like but still. Why is everyone so quiet?"

John recovers first, although he still sounds a little bit confused when he speaks.

"Um… Sure? Yeah, we're ready to party."

"One: it's part _ae_ , and two: who said you weren't an idiot? You're definitely an idiot. And I told you, no idiots."

His target splutters in indignation.

"I know, I know, but there's nothing you can do," at this point Lafayette shakes his head sadly. "You can't even dispute it. _But,_ if you'd like, since I do have a soft spot for _your_ idiocy specifically, you could join us cool kids. At a price."

John seems too offended to speak.

"What is the price, you may ask? Well, knowing it would ruin the fun now wouldn't it? This is not at all because I need time to excercise my evil genius to think of a suitable price. Not at all."

"Well," I interrupt, "Who do you dictate as non-idiots?"

This is maybe not the most tactful thing to say, but I can't think of anything else and I _do_ actually want to know the answer.

"Well I was really only thinking of you and me. As far as I'm concerned, everyone else is an idiot." He winks at his "adoring" crowd of offended idiots. "I was going to have some exceptions for special idiots, of course, like I did for John."

Humoring him, Hercules asks, "And how may we earn the right to hang out with you, your highness?"

"Now you'll just have to figure that out, won't you? And do you find it appropriate to address your king with such casualty?"

"Ah, I'm so sorry, my lord. Forgive an unimportant peasant like me. I'm not worthy of the energy it would take to condemn me."

"True."

After a moment, Lafayette turns towards me.

"Have you nothing to say, fellow nobility? The educated are expected to converse."

"Oh. Uh. What's the party, er, partae gonna be?"

"How nice of you to ask! And you don't actually have to say partae, I'm just mean to John. I plan to have all of the people I let participate meet in about two hours at seven in the party room in this dorm, and we're going to have a party set up and ready. We will then commence to, well, party. It will be very low key because I don't want to overwhelm you with how crazy my parties can be. You'll help me set up, right?"

"Sure. But you have a party room? How fancy is this dorm?"

"Oh it's not actually, it's just what we call this room when we clean it up and throw parties in it. For now, everyone must clear out." He directs this last order at the audience of his ridiculousness. "Meet at seven, and spread the word to the boring people who aren't down here."

"Wait," I remember, "Weren't you going to have people take like a test or-"

"Hush, Alex. I'm trying to be considerate, don't stop me."

He makes a good point; I shut up. I decide that John's "price" has also probably been excused.

"Well? What are you all still here for? Leave, go! Spread the word and your wings! Use my divine inspiration to create a piece of art that will win many awards, and tell everyone I inspired you!" He pauses and thinks for a moment, searching for more motivation. He comes up with, "Or die!"

Clearly, he just made an extremely strange speech. I feel the need to point this out, but since everyone else seems to think it's normal, I decide to leave it be and don't comment.

Me, Lafayette, John, and Hercules spend the next two hours setting up the party. It doesn't really take all that much setting up; we pretty much just need to clean it some, so I get to spend a long while talking.

I have some really great conversations, such as:

"Hey Alex, do you always come here on the weekends?" John. "Why hadn't we noticed you before? I mean, we usually try to befriend all of the people who seem to be around our age."

"It might be because he kind of just blends into the background, and I bet he spends all his time working. We don't bother people who are working." Lafayette. "Also, he looks old. I mean… older. Than us. Yeah."

And all of this before I even answer whether I always come here on the weekends.

 _Really_ great conversation.

We have another great one, about something, but it's so traumatic that I block it out. Or at least that's my theory, I can't remember it because I refuse to think of it. So I really don't know. Which is probably good.

But we actually do end up talking about our lives and I get to know the three of them better. Apparently they're really close with each other, more so than with their other dorm-mates. When they tell me this I get worried that they won't want to expand their group to include me, but while I'm still not sure that they'll want to, I know that fretting won't help, so I stop.

At least for now.

I do have a habit of worrying as I try to go to sleep.

But I try to concentrate on the company and the party coming soon. We mess around until there's about half an hour left, and put on some music that we all like and start cleaning. I'm assigned to getting rid of the cobwebs. Lafayette and Hercules have floor duty, and John has to pick up the odds and ends on the table and find something to do with them.

I finish with the cobwebs way before anyone else is done, so I go over to help John because he seems like he needs help.

Turns out there are some strange things on the tables.

"What's this?" I ask.

"I don't know but it looks like something someone could care about so put it in the basket that I'm using for that kind of stuff."

"And this?"

"Well it could be… No, no I hope it isn't. We're just gonna throw it away. It's definitely trash... or something worse. Either way, I will not let it ruin this beautiful table."

I, thankfully, don't pursue it further.

We finish cleaning the tables in the nick of time, to find Lafayette and Hercules sitting on the couch behind us. Being extremely helpful.

John voices my thoughts.

"So I see when you guys finished you thought that you should not help us. I have to say, that was probably the best course of action. You wouldn't want me to actually be grateful to you or anything, would you?"

"Yeah, we're smart like that," Lafayette shoots back.

Five minutes left on the clock, and me and John pick up the last strange item from the table. Considering some of the things we saw, a drink that seems to be a blend of some fabrics and various meats is really quite normal. I shy away from this thought, because it scares me and is unnatural.

"Ok," starts Lafayette, "We have finished making this room beautiful. Now we must add the finishing touches."

Even at this point I still don't really know what Lafayette is planning for the party because I'm very inexperienced, which doesn't help to dispel my nerves. Sensing this, the other guys let me just sit on the couch for the last few minutes, trying to relax. Soon, Lafayette opens the door and greets the people who've started coming in. I look around for something to do, because I can't bear to watch people. I'm worried that everyone's gonna be bored, and I have a problem with cringe-worthy moments like this could become, so I really, _really,_ want to find something else to do. I see Hercules in the corner, seemingly just watching people. In that way, we're very different. But I know him, and he's out of the way, and just standing next to someone I know would be better than seeing whether the party successfully starts, so I approach him. He's leaning on the wall, and I lean next to him. He doesn't do anything to acknowledge me at first, but I don't think he's being mean. After a moment, he turns towards me with the hint of a smile on his face.

"I always like to watch the moment at the beginning of parties when everyone looks around, sees what they might want to do."

I realize that I haven't seem the "finishing touches" so I decide to look around, and just try not to pay attention to the people.

I see, in one corner, a table with various board and card games on it. People have already started playing, and there are some people watching the current players. Lafayette has a little corner with chairs set up for people to sit and do pretty much whatever they want (with some exceptions) and all of the open floor space can be used for dancing, among other things. Currently, some random music I don't know is playing, and the lights are in between dark and bright. It's relaxing.

I can see the computer playing music, and Laf has it set up so that people can add songs to the list and they'll play after all of the ones before them are done. He goes over to check it every once in awhile, and sometimes he gets rid of a song, probably just from personal preference.

There's also some food on a table (when and how did that get there?) that looks kind of tasty.

The party passes by in a blur. I spend a lot of time with the three people I know, but as time goes on I find myself talking to some new people, loosening up.

I play some board games, eat some food, relax. The party goes pretty late, and after it ends I'm invited to sleep on an empty bed in John's room. He had been rooming with Hercules until recently, and Lafayette had been rooming with some other guy, but said guy moved to France for a while and Hercules switched rooms so that John had one to himself. This is lucky, because I'm so tired that walking back to the place I'm staying would most certainly not go well.

John lugs me up to his room in my sleepy state, and I almost fall asleep on the way there. John pretty much throws me onto the bed, and the last thing I notice is that my feet seem to be on the pillow. Huh. I start to blame John, but fall asleep in the middle of the thought. I'm not too sad about it.


	8. This Means War

**Hello again. So in this chapter, I have a couple of things. One: George Frederick is King George, according to the internet, so that's what I'm calling him. Two: I may have gone a bit overboard with my suggestiveness, but I don't really think I did so hope y'all don't mind.  
Actually, I guess that's all. It _was_ actually a couple though.  
** **Anyways, thank you all for reading!**

* * *

I sleep well in the unfamiliar room, while is surprising because I usually don't like sleeping in places I'm not used to. I end up sleeping way later than I normally do, but even so the dorm is silent when I wake up. I guess most people are asleep, I am kind of an oddball as far as sleeping goes. I look over at John's bed to affirm that most people are probably asleep (instead of, say, everyone camping outside my door, planning to throw a pie at my face as I exited the room in which scenario he might be gone), and see that he's indeed there. Interestingly, he's also partway off of his bed, and getting further as time goes on. I can't decide whether to let him fall (it _would_ be fun to watch), push him back onto the bed, or just wake him up and let him do whatever he wants. If I let him fall or push him, chances are he'll wake up anyways. I sit in bed for a couple more minutes, unusually indecisive, before deciding that I'll push him back onto his bed and try not to wake him up.

Even though I've decided, after my bout of indecisiveness, I'm still not really sure how to go about pushing someone back onto their bed without disturbing their sleep.

I approach his bed and kind of tap him to see if he'll wake up. He doesn't stir, so I continue to push on him lightly. When he still doesn't move, I figure that I'll just roll him over and be done with it. I grab his shoulder and start to push him, but he mumbles something and I immediately stop. I wait about ten seconds to assure he's still asleep, keeping as still as I can.

During these ten seconds I can't help but notice how peaceful he looks sleeping. I'm sure most people look peaceful sleeping, but it's not something I get to see very often, as I don't make it a habit to watch people sleep and don't love with anyone.

He looks kind of angelic.

I resume turning him over, blushing at my admiration of how cute he looks. He mumbles again, but I just want to get it over with so I don't stop this time.

I manage to get all of him completely back onto his bed before he wakes up. He opens his eyes groggily and stares at me a second before saying anything.

"Why am I awake?" he mutters. After looking at the clock he continues, "It's not even noon."

"Well I woke up early and you were falling off of your bed. I opted to help you and then you woke up. You are fully on your bed again though, so consider some gratitude."

"Oh. Yeah, I fall off of my bed a lot actually. Not sure why."

He still sounds asleep, even after participation in a kind-of-conversation, so I figure if I leave him be he'll fall back asleep.

But he doesn't, and I can plainly see the moment when he really wakes up. His eyes open and gain an element of awakeness that wasn't there before, as he attempts to sit up.

"Wait," he pauses for a moment, and I think he may have lost his train of thought already. Then he starts again, "Oh, I remembered. Are you saying that almost everyone else in the dorm is asleep? Because if so…"

"Yeah, as far as I can tell."

He starts to grin evilly.

"We have to prank them. It's the perfect opportunity. We'll recruit anyone who's awake and then we'll convene and decide on a prank. Maybe even start a prank war," he waggles his eyebrows. "Are you ready?"  
He sounds very resolute, so I don't bother questioning him.

"Sure."

"Ok, this is good. Very good."

He's definitely scheming.

He gets out of his bed and I get the feeling I've reached the point of no return. I just hope no one will hate me after this.

He starts to take off his clothes, and when he gets to his pants I remember myself and turn around quickly, blushing. I wasn't looking at his back, really, I was just spacing out. Honest.

He must have seem my movement out of the corner of his eye, because he kind of chuckles before saying, "You should get dressed too, you're still in yesterday's clothes."

I'm grateful for the distraction, and go to find my clothes before realizing I don't have any.

"Could I, um, maybe borrow your clothes or something? I left mine at the place I was planning to stay."

"Oh, sure. Pick some from the closet over there. You can wear whatever you want, as long as you return it at some point, the sooner the better."

"Thanks."

I go over to his closet, finding that he has a nice selection of clothes, and that his style is similar enough to mine that I can find something to wear that isn't too unusual for me. Ok, it's not _really_ , but there are some clothes that don't seem like things he would wear which suit my style fairly well.

I finish getting dressed and turn around. John is still politely looking away, so I clear my throat as a signal that I'm as fully clothed as he is. Which would be with all of the clothes, of course.

He looks at me again, seems to admire how I look in his slightly-more-stylish-than-mine clothes.

"Ok, time to recruit our men."

He leads me down the hallway, poking his head into every room we pass.

We find some people awake, the most notable of them being Hercules and Lafayette who are playing a card game (which almost seems like it could be strip poker… huh) when we come in.

There's also some random people that I don't know or recognise, such as someone named Charles Lee who seems kind of annoying. Of course, I probably shouldn't judge him so quickly, but part of my dislike is the fact that Lafayette (who took charge once John told him the plan) had promoted him to "general", and that I might be kind of jealous in the back of my mind.

The conversation went kind of like this:

"Ok, Lee. By the power invested in me because I'm cool and French, I promote you to general. This is a very serious title, and I hope that you will accept it as such, and fight well for our cause."

"I'm a general! Wow, cool!" Lee answers in his ridiculous voice.

Yeah, he's not the choice I would've gone with.

When I ask Lafayette why in the world he chose Lee, all he says is, "Alex, we can't very well send our very best men into combat, can we? We must be plotting on the sidelines, with no chance of injury. Our soldiers would be hopeless without us. They _need_ us."

His answer isn't very convincing, but I leave it.

I also realize that I'm letting my petty jealousy get in the way of being a good person (no matter how annoying Lee might be, which would be very) so I try to be nicer after that.

We hold a meeting, deciding what our first prank will be. Lafayette thinks we shouldn't start out too bad, ease them into it a little, but John still wants to do something big. Even as John loses the argument, the glint to his eyes is still there. He manages, somehow, to bargain his way into getting to plan the biggest prank, whenever Lafayette plans to unleash it on the enemies. A last resort of sorts. Lafayette gets to plan the first prank, and they're thinking that they'll hold meetings to decide the rest, which will of course depend on the foes' retaliation.

Lafayette decides that he will only tell the people crucial to the prank what it is, apparently for "shock value" and because he wants to surprise us.

"Just because I don't want the prank to be too intense, doesn't mean it won't be good."

He sends off some people to go get resources, and keeps pretty much only John, Hercules, and me in the dark. I think he's trying to impress us, which is kind of funny.

We wait there for people to get back. Once they do, it's fairly obvious what Lafayette has planned, made especially so by the fact that I thought about it fairly recently.

"Really?" I ask, raising my eyebrows at the materials.

"Ok, so it may not be as sophisticated as I made it seem, but it's classic! I couldn't resist."

He gives me a pleading puppy dog face, and I relent. I guess it _is_ quite classic.

I expect John and Hercules to have figured it out too, and when I look over at them I'm not disappointed. They both have evil grins on their faces, apparently pleased with the simple prank.

Hercules speaks up.

"Ok, we'll need someone stationed near all of the rooms when people start waking up. I suggest that we lock their doors so that we can get them at the same time and confuse them. We can make their locks open at the same time, and make sure that all of them are awake."

"I second what he said," agrees Lafayette.

"Wait… How are you planning to get the doors to unlock at the same time?" I ask.

Everyone looks at me, confused, and finally John answers.

"We have automatic locks… We just need to break into Washington's office to control the ones we want to."

"Oh."

He looks vaguely uncomfortable.

Lafayette tries to dispel the awkard by interjecting, "Yeah, this dorm is pretty fancy! It's kind of silly, honestly. I mean when, other than during a prank war, would you want to access all of the locks?"  
I can think of a couple of times (most of them emergencies, I have a dark mind) when you'd want to do that, but I'm grateful for his interruption, so I don't point them out.

Lafayette assigns people to rooms, and has Hercules control the locks, despite his protests. After Lafayette whispers something in Herc's ear, he relents and goes to control the locks.

Me and John are assigned to this guy named Aaron Burr and his roommate.

Lafayette takes on George Frederick, who apparently never hangs out with anyone in the dorm, always clubbing or hiding in his room, and since his roommate is out Lafayette doesn't need a partner.

Herc locks all the rooms that have prank-able people in them, and we get ready to spend a while waiting for them to wake up.

* * *

 **Any predictions as to either what the prank is or what Lafayette offered Hercules? It's completely innocent though, however it might seem. I promise.**

 **Thank you again for reading, and reviews are always appreciated!**


	9. War Pies

**A new chapter! "Weeeeeeeeeee" (to fulfill the quote of Charles Lee's that wouldn't have really made sense in the last chapter, but that I wanted to include anyways.)**  
 **Bearah Cubecars, ya got me. I'm bad at prank ideas and pies just seemed like a nice warm up, so I went with it.**  
 **And sorry that the sides are kind of weird, what with Burr on Georges side and stuff, but sometimes you gotta stretch the truth to achieve well written prank wars.**

* * *

After putting our pies in a fridge, we all go and hang out in the common room. I do the obvious thing.

I've been dreaming about playing the piano again ever since I first played it a week ago. It's great to finally get the chance. I even practiced on some public pianos (I might have gotten some annoyed glances but it was worth it) and brought my music books with me. I've started to keep them in my computer bag (which I take around everywhere) so that I'll pretty much always have them, just in case.

Today I go and get one of them out of my computer bag before returning to the common room. I bring it into the room and set it on the piano. No one pays attention to me, which is nice, and I look through the book and try to chose a song. It turns out to be strangely hard because there are just so many good songs in the book. I'm sure I _could_ decide, but I go over to John and ask him to chose a song since he's a secret piano enthusiast according to himself.

He looks through the book and chooses one he likes.

"It's strange; I actually have a memory associated with almost all of these songs," he says, "but I'm in the mood for this one right now."

I hadn't considered that he might like piano songs for a sentimental reason, rather than how they sound. It's an interesting thought.

I look at the song. The first prelude of Bach's Well-Tempered Clavier.

"Okay," I answer. "I've actually played a piece inspired by this. It's called Shimmering Prelude by… Melody Bober I think. It's really pretty."

"Never heard of it. But you should play it sometime."

I nod my head, and go with my music back to the piano.

Strangely, I feel right at home sitting on the lush, well crafted bench. I'm not sure why. I'm not used to living with fancy accommodations; I've lived with the bare minimum for most of my life. I've had more ever since I got a job and started entering writing contests for money, but I still don't have much. And what I do, I definitely don't spend on making my life more comfortable. I put it into savings, mostly for college. I want to get a good education, and I know it's going to be expensive.

But even so, I do feel at home in the fancy dorm. Must be the people. They're the only friends I have right now, and probably closer than any others I've had in the past.

Also, they're just really nice.

I pull my attention to the piano, trying to turn my constant stream of thoughts back into focus so that I can play the piano well enough to impress John and everybody else.

I start playing the music, and, getting into it, I forget where I am and who I'm with. When I finish, surely grinning like an idiot, I feel a hand clap my back. It's nice to know that someone appreciates my playing. I don't even think to check who it is until the applause has finished. When I look back, I'm pleased to see it's John.

Wait. I'm pleased to see it's John? I wonder...

I think I'll need to look into that.

But right now we're in the middle of a war, so I must put aside my feelings to deal with later.

We hang out in the common room for another half an hour or so before we start hearing raised voices from the locked rooms.

The first person we hear is the George guy who Lafayette was assigned to. He just lets out a string of curses.

Lafayette smirks. "The festivities have begun."

Over the course of the next hour, more people wake up. We hear them start to yell at us, angrily, and soon after that they start talking amongst themselves.

"So apparently this is some prank of the 'trouble triple'," starts Burr, "although now it's a different triple. I wonder why they abandoned Hercules."

He's talking about the note we left on everyone's door so that we wouldn't _actually_ scare them or make them think that they were gonna get murdered or something.

It reads:

Hey. Your doors are locked until you can unscramble this and do what it says:  
prin uoeo st luhsedr fvst

There are the correct amount of spaces and we'll know when you do, or if you do it wrong, so don't try anything.  
Have fun! ;)

-John, Lafayette, and Alexander

The letters are actually completely random but we just wanted a way to keep them from panicking while not tipping them off to our real prank.

George responds with, "Come on. I come back to the dorm for once and this is how I'm treated? You guys suck. If anyone unscrambles the note, tell me. I need to get out of this place."

* * *

Later in life, with the help of a bit of alcohol, George frederick tells us (he drinks the alcohol willingly and we don't force him to tell us anything; he's just a talkative drunk) that apparently he'd deciphered our nonsense, our completely random letters, to say that he needed to profess his love to someone outside with no shirt on. This will go on to be called the "George incident" and the story will be told by us whenever it's even just a little bit appropriate.

When we tell him that we hadn't meant anything of the sort and that the letters had been random, he says, "I was wondering why you didn't let me out immediately when I did. Huh. Well… It was a bit of a stretch. I guess I just kind of thought that you guys were really bad at spelling. And grammar. Anyways, I hate you all and I'm leaving."

He then commences to fall asleep on the couch (I swear he didn't even have that much alcohol, and with how much he goes clubbing you would think that he'd have a higher tolerance, but I guess he doesn't) where he sleeps until the next morning. When we wake him up, he scowls at us, drags himself into his room, and presumably goes back to sleep.

But that's a story for another time.

* * *

"Yeah, they suck," Hercules agrees. "I can't believe they pranked me. I bet that they wanted to do something with Alex because- No, I bet they just didn't want to ruin the ring of the name 'trouble triple.' That's more likely. Ugh. I hate them."

Lafayette had explained to us that he'd bribed Herc into not pieing someone by saying that since people won't see him, he can be a secret agent type thing, and pretend to be on the other side. He'll smuggle us information from the opposition, and we will win the war.

He mostly just agrees because it sounds exciting though.

So he hangs out in his room (with the door unlocked) for awhile, until it's almost time to unlock the doors (this is about the time when people start whining and halfheartedly smacking their doors), at which point he quietly slips out and joins us in the common room. He stays there while everyone gets their pies for a little bit, and then leaves to Washington's office. I'm still not sure how he got the keys to it though.

Me and John go to Burr's room, each carrying a beautiful pie. It's kind of a shame to ruin them by pieing people, but I think the end result will be worth it.

Lafayette goes to George's room, carrying his own pie.

After, by a series of texts, Lafayette is sure that everyone on our side is ready, he sends a text to Hercules and the doors all unlock at once.

The whining and banging stops pretty quickly after that.

It's epic. First to emerge from his room is George, but he, luckily, doesn't come out so soon before everyone else that they know what is going to happen to them. Almost everyone in the dorm rooms get to have a nice pie to the face. We treat Hercules fairly too, of course, for credibility. And maybe because Lafayette felt like Hercules needed a pie in his face. But mostly for credibility.

The opposing side takes the prank surprisingly well. I think it's suspicious. They're probably planning something, maybe through text. Maybe they were even before they knew our real prank.

But it's good that they take it well, because everyone ends up going on with their day with no further dramatics, while I hang out with the group.

Sometime in the afternoon, John says, "Hey! I just remembered that I said I would show you something today, near the park. Do you still want to go?"

"Oh, yeah. Sure," I respond. "We could go now if you don't have anything to do. I did way too much schoolwork on Friday and Saturday morning so I'm set."

"Okay. I don't have anything to do either so how about I get some stuff, and we meet down here again at," he looks around for a clock, and his eyes light up when he sees one on the wall, "four-forty. Then I'll take you to the park and we can enjoy some time there."

"Sounds good."

"Okay. I'll be back soon." He waves to me and turns around, heading up the stairs to his room.

Spending time with everyone else in the common room is fun, but I end up wishing that John will come back sooner so that we can spend time together again.

* * *

 **Well, that's all for now. I hope y'all enjoyed it.**  
 **For those who were wondering, King George's interpretation was "prufes luv otsid no shert" which is indeed a bit of a stretch, but hey, that was kind of the point. It would've been too unlikely for all of those words to perfectly fall into place. And also, isn't he just such a talented guy to decipher that I'm just so proud.**  
 **And, of course, as usual, I want your opinions, so you should review. Thanks to anyone who has.**  
 **(IllusionalFennec, right? It was hard to write past that part because it just felt so wrong to write anything that wasn't the actual lyrics. And because I was too busy singing in my head...)**


	10. Lams

It's ten minutes past our meeting time, and I'm still waiting for John. I realize it's not really that big of a deal but it kind of hurts to know that he doesn't care enough to be punctual.

I'm talking to Lafayette when he catches me looking at the clock for the fifth or so time in like a minute, so he asks what's up.

"It's just," I start, "John was supposed to meet me down here more than ten minutes ago, and I'm still waiting. I know it's not a big deal but-"  
"Mon ami," he interrupts, laughing, "just go up to his room and get him. John has a habit of forgetting himself or getting sidetracked. Either way, he's late most of the time."

Oh. He has a good point.

"Oh," I voice my thoughts. "That's true. Ok, thanks for the advice. I'll see you later. Bye."

As I turn around, waving, I see Lafayette chuckling to himself, but I'm not sure why.

I don't process his murmuring, "Oh, goodness. They'll surely realize it soon, won't they?"

* * *

What he doesn't know, what _none_ of us do, is that we won't. Not soon. Maybe not ever. Not after next week.

* * *

I go up to his room and knock on the door.

"Come in!" John's voice comes through the door, a bit muffled.

"Wait," he starts when he sees me. "I'm forgetting something, aren't I?"

He's sitting at his desk, leaning over a stack of papers. If I concentrate, I can see that they're a stack of drawings, a strangely large amount of them drawings of turtles.

"I bet I was supposed to-" at this point he looks at his watch and kind of gasps. "Oh crap. We were supposed to meet fifteen minutes ago. I'm so sorry!" he looks up at me, and I can't help but laugh.

"What?" he asks, suddenly indignant.

"It's just," I start, "you looked so sorry. It's really not such a big deal. I was just coming to remind you since Lafayette said that you could be a bit… forgetful."

"Oh," he relaxes. "That's good. Wouldn't want to offend you before our first d- er, time hanging out. Without a group buffer."

I wonder if he was going to say "date." It almost seems like I imagined the beginning of the word, or that it was just a stutter, he glossed over it so fast. No, I bet he wasn't.

"Yup."

We smile at each other (we should really stop these awkward bouts of smiling, regardless of how they seem to be getting less awkward) for a long moment, before John breaks my gaze and looks back down at his pile of art.

"So, I got what I needed and we can head out now."

I look around the room, trying to find what he's talking about. There aren't any noticeable piles as far as I can see. There is, however, more drawings of turtles that I hadn't noticed before.

"What did you get?" I ask.

"Oh," he responds, "Nothing really. All I need is a drawing or two, and I got caught up an idea and started drawing it, which is why I was late."

I wonder where we could be going that all you need is "a drawing or two". I decide to just leave it a mystery, and nod my head.

"Well," John says, getting up and heading out of the room, "Let's go."

I smile and follow him.

* * *

After leading me out of the dorm and through a couple of streets, John announces that we've reached our destination.

It kind of just seems to be a normal park. I look closer, trying to figure out what we're going to do. I notice a forest to out right and a playground to our left before remembering that I was going to let it be a mystery.

I stop looking around and instead look at John.

"Ok. So… is this where we're going?"

"Oh!" John responds quickly, "No. We're going to go over to- can you see that little building over there?" I nod my head. It kind of looks like an abandoned shack. He continues, "So we're going to go behind that. There's a little opening in the trees that's really pretty."

"Ok."

He starts towards the shack and beckons for me to follow.

As we approach it, I can see a sign. I try to make out what it says, but it's too far away.

We get closer to the shack, and I can eventually see the words on the sign. It reads: "John's Collection".

I'm confused. I send a questioning glance at John, who just smiles and says, "You'll see."

We reach the shack and, contrary to what I thought we were doing, John opens the door and goes into it.

I follow him in, and am shocked by what I see. John looks around fondly at- at a _gallery._ That's the only word I can think of. The walls are covered in John's artwork, and there are notes written on the papers. All of the few pieces of feedback I quickly read are positive, encouraging him to keep drawing.

John looks back at me, smiling at my awed face.

"This is- These are _so cool._ This is amazing!" I meet John's eyes, matching his smile by now.

"I was hoping you'd think that. I bring a few drawings every time I come here to replace ones that people occasionally take."

Seeing my appalled face, he continues, "It's fine with me. I even have a sign here," he points to the sign, "that encourages people to. I have my name on all of them, so it's pretty much free advertising." He winks at me. "Plus, it's just cool to know that people like my drawings so much that they'll take them."

"Oh, that makes sense."

He smiles at my surely still amazed face.

"Okay. With that aside, let me show me what we _actually_ came here for."

I nod, still gaping at his art. It's just _so_ good.

He leads me outside and past the shack.

The clearing is amazing too.

"I think I might be having an overload of amazing," I say. "Really."

John laughs. "It _is_ pretty amazing, isn't it?"

"Definitely."

"So, I come here a lot. I usually sit there," he points at a big, flat rock, "and just think. It's really nice."

"I bet so." I make my way over to the rock and sit down. He joins me, sitting a little closer that might be necessary. It's nice.

We sit for a while and talk, words flowing freely between us. We laugh a lot. About an hour into our time there, I notice that it seems about ready to rain. John sees me looking nervously at the sky and tilts his head in question.

"It seems like it might rain soon."

He figures it out remarkably quickly, and engulfs me in a hug.

I smile into his shirt.

"Ok," he decides, "let's go back to the dorm?'

"It's not that bad," I respond. "I'm really enjoying talking to you, so how about we go back if it starts raining? I can deal with light rain fine."

"If that's what you want," John concedes, although he still looks nervous for me.

"It is."

"Okay. How bad is your," he pauses, searching for the right word.

"Fear is a fine word," I supply.

"Okay. Your fear of rain and big bodies of water and stuff, how bad is it?" he continues hesitantly.

"It's- well here, let me tell you the story in a little bit more detail."

I tell him the whole story of the terrible hurricane that hit my hometown, leaving out some of the more tragic and gruesome parts. When I finish, he looks at me, sad, but with very little of the pity that some people have. He looks sad about what _happened_ to me, instead of just sad for me.

After a second of processing, John engulfs me in yet another hug, which I accept gratefully. It's hard to talk about what happened to me. This hug lasts longer, and feels more comforting. When he pulls away, he looks at me, tears in his eyes. He seems to not be able to stand to not be comforting me, and hugs me again.

The hugs undo me, and I feel tears forming slowly in my eyes as well.

After the longest moment, John still hugging me, I start to feel raindrops mingle with my tears.

John acts immediately, disentangling him from me and leading me quickly back out of the clearing.

It's still not raining too hard as we get back to the dorm, which is good. It's about seven o'clock, and I spend the next hour or so hanging out with John in his room. Many more hugs transpire, and he talks to me about simple, nice things when I get scared of the rain. It's really nice, honestly. I've never felt so happy spending time with someone.

Fifteen minutes before the bus is to arrive at 8:30, John acts on his offer to drive me to the bus stop and stay with me in the rain until the bus comes. I had been worried about it before, so I'm grateful to him for the umpteenth time.

He accompanies me to the bus, and in his presence I find that I'm not as bothered by the rain as I surely would've been. The bus ride is nerve-wracking but with the memory of how nice John was today I manage to survive.

I get home safely.

I blame John.

* * *

 **So I really like this chapter. Full of lams. Did you like it? I really do. Okay, I already said that. I should stop. (But could we just admire all of the nice hugs they had?)  
** **You all caught that one foreboding sentence right? Any predictions?  
** **Okay, that's all, I'll talk to y'all again on Tuesday. Byeeeeee!**


	11. I Need Him

**So, as a warning, I should probably tell you all that this chapter and the next are from a different point of view. I do have a reason, which you will probably understand when you read it. I hope it isn't too annoying for anyone.  
**

* * *

It rains all night and I don't sleep very well, although thinking of John helps get rid of my fear a little bit.

I'm irritable and tired the next morning when I wake up, but I attempt to go through a normal day regardless.

School goes fine, although since it continues raining throughout, my mood darkens.

I manage to get a little bit of work done before giving up and going to sleep. I sleep even more fitfully than the night before as it continues raining.

It rains all through Tuesday and Wednesday, which are both, as expected, bad days.

Wednesday night, I get another email from her.

It's from my ex-girlfriend. I broke up with years ago, but she still likes to send me emails occasionally reminding me of what a terrible person I am. She forced the relationship onto me at the time, although I did nothing to stop her. I was almost fine with it. But when I broke it off, she went ballistic. It's better now than in the beginning, but it's still, by no means, good.

This time, the email simply reads, "You know, you ruined my life."

Normally, I can endure her painful messages. Today, however, with the rain over the last few days and the lack of friends I had over the weekend, I can't hold it together. I snap.

I'd been feeling fragile anyways, and memories can only get me so far.

My brain clouds over, trying to block out the pain.

My feelings dull.

I fall back down into that place.

Going deeper.

Deeper.

The feeling of life leaves me and

I fall

Deeper.

So deep that

I can't get back out,

Stuck.

It's worse this time.

I need help but

There is no one.

I can't keep going, _caring,_ so I just

Stop.

Broken.

* * *

The week passes by, and I long for Alex's company. I hope that he know's he's welcome to stay in our dorm anytime. I hope he knows it would be _great_ if he stayed at our dorm anytime.

No one has his phone number, so I have no way of contacting him, but Lafayette says that he gave Alex his, so at least he can contact us if he wants.

Saturday goes by. Alex doesn't show up.

I think that maybe he'll come next weekend, that he was busy this one. It's a little bit strange that he didn't contact Laf, but it's possible he just didn't think of it. Maybe he's not the kind of person to think to tell his new friends if he's not coming for the weekend. But I'm probably overreacting. I _am_ a worry-wart.

But after the next week and weekend, I still haven't seen or heard from him.

I say to myself that if I don't see him the third weekend, I'll let myself worry, but that there's nothing I can do, and excessive worrying won't help.

I still worry the week away, but my mental restrain keeps me from going all out. Lafayette and Hercules try to calm me down, while still agreeing that it's a little bit weird he hasn't called or anything.

"He probably just lost the phone number. It's easy to lose a small slip of paper. Or maybe he just forgot he had it," says Lafayette one day.

 _Or maybe he just doesn't care about us enough to think that we would want to hear from him. Maybe he had no intention of seeing us regularly,_ I think. _But we had such a nice time talking the last time I saw him, I just thought that he… liked being with us._

After three weekends since he was last here, one part of me is really starting to worry while a different part starts to doubt if he even thought of us as friends at all.

Two more weeks pass before I just can't take it anymore. I tell Laf and Herc to tell the school I'm sick if I'm not back by monday, brief them on what I'm doing, and drive to New Jersey.

I drive almost the whole way before realizing that I have no plan. I've driven Alex to his apartment once, but I don't remember exactly what it looks like or how to get to it, and either way I don't know his room number. Maybe I could just ask the person at the front desk, but they might not tell me.

But I can't stop, even just to think of what I'm going to do. It's been five weeks. I worry a lot. This not knowing is _not_ good for me in any way at all.

I get to New Jersey and drive around for a while, not knowing where I'm going, before realizing that I'm getting absolutely nothing done, and that whatever situation Alex is in could be getting worse every second I spend aimlessly driving. At that point, I pull over in the nearest place it's safe to and try to get myself together.

I can feel my breath coming short and my body starting to tense. Who knew I cared so much about him? This only happens when I'm concerned about people I _really_ care about.

But I do care, and I have to find out what has happened to him. I'm going to feel very stupid if it turns out he just didn't want to see us, but it's worth it to help him in case he needs help.

I spend a moment just trying to breathe consistently. This helps me calm down, and I regain most of my composure.

When I start to think clearly, a plan comes to me relatively fast. I quickly pull out my phone and look up a number that'll help me inquire about Alex from his college.

I find a number and try calling it, but I ask and they say they don't have the answers. As an afterthought I ask them if they know the number that would be most likely to help me. They give me a number and I write it down, thank them, and quickly call the new number.

"Hello?" the voice on the phone asks.

"Hi. My name is John Laurens and I was wondering if you could help me find out about a friend."

"There's only so much we can tell people, but what did you want to know and about who?"

"My friends name is Alex Hamilton and I- well I was wondering if you knew where his apartment was, although I bet you can't tell me that."

If she thinks it's strange that, as his friend, I have no way of contacting him, she doesn't say anything.

"We can't really, no. You're talking about Alexander Hamilton, right?"

"Yes," I'm getting more desperate by the second.

"Well, I can tell you that he's kind of infamous at Princeton and there've been some rumors floating around. I'm really not telling you this to gossip, but just because I'm genuinely concerned and as his friends you're probably more so. You have a right to know."

She's freaking me out. I decide to ask the less important question first, for some reason. Maybe I'm stalling.

"Why is he infamous at Princeton?"

"Oh, it's because he's one of the most studious people in the whole school. His grades are some of the best, but besides that, anyone who talks to him spouts praise about his level of dedication and intelligence for a long time after that."

That makes sense.

"Okay," I prepare myself for the big question, "So. What have people been saying?"

"They've been saying that… That, well, he seems to have gotten," she pauses, "dull kind of?" I can almost feel her wondering how honest to be. "I guess I shouldn't beat around the bush. They- they think he's depressed."

Oh.

"Oh."

I take a moment to process and she doesn't interrupt, which I'm thankful for.

"Well, thank you for trying to help. I guess I'll just have to… find another way to contact him. Thank you again."

I'm just about to hang up when she speaks again.

"Well do you think you'd be able to look in a phonebook…? It would at least be able to get you his phone number, probably."

There's a beat of silence, before I stutter out a very quick thank-you before hanging up.

I look blankly at the inside of my car for a moment.

Man, am I stupid.

Now to find a phone book.

I wonder if there might be one in a gas station or something, but I doubt it.

I deliberate for a long while before deciding to look in my car. I'm sure it hasn't been cleaned out recently and I know my parents used to keep phone books in their car's. It's possible that they managed to slip one in at some point and I never got around to taking it back out.

I'm in luck, but I think I deserve luck. I really, _really_ need to help Alex. I look through the phone book and my luck holds up. I find a phone number and send a quick text.

 **(212)-xxx-xxxx**

 **Hey alex this is john. I want to help you but I don't know where you are. Please send me your address I need something I need to help you**

I wait as long as I can bear before calling. If he's depressed, I don't really expect him to have the energy to answer, but I can hope.

No answer.

I wait for a couple more minutes, slowly getting more worried and desperate and starting to feel a little bit crazy.

Finally, _finally_ I hear the notification noise. There is only a short text with two numbers and two words. But that's all I need. The house number, the room number, the street.

His address.

* * *

 **So I did John's pov because Hamilton seemed unfit to tell his story. I hope if it annoys anyone they can forgive me, and I promise that it won't be John's pov for more than the next chapter, if that.  
The phone number has New York's area code, according to the internet, so that's why that's like that.  
** **(Let's just take a moment to acknowledge that I wrote Alex into depression on his death anniversary. Yay... *tear* Shmurp. I hate myself. Not really. But I didn't do it on purpose, either. Ugh.)  
Thank you all for reading, and the favorites/follows/reviews. I appreciate it. Thank you!  
Off to go be sad...**


	12. I Need to Help Him

**Well, a new chapter, a new day. I don't really have anything to say except a thank you to Mancer from Telemancer for turning Ham into a kitten. Couldn't have done that without her. Enjoy your reading! Oh yeah, and this is the last chapter from John's pov.**

* * *

After putting the address in my phone's GPS, I floor it. I drive as safely as I can bear to while still going faster than usual.

I reach Alex's apartment in a matter of minutes, and burst in through the front doors. I mumble a quick greeting the the person at the desk before running past him, into the hallway that I hope leads to Alex.

I need to help him.

Finding nothing on this level but stairs, I run up those and find some rooms. I check the room numbers. They're not close enough, so I continue to ascend. Finally, after far too long, I find the hallway with his number. When I see the number (it seems to be the most beautiful 47 I've seen in a while), I crank up the speed, running to his door more fast than is really advisable.

And, so, when I run into his door, I hear many muffled sounds of confusion from the surrounding rooms.

Someone yells, "Hey, quiet down out there!"

I'm a little bit dazed from running into a door at full speed, but I don't take too long to recover. I'm quickly back at it, pounding on his door as loudly as I dare with angry neighbors.

"Alex!" I shout whisper. More of a shout.

"I unlocked the door," comes the muffled response, and a pause, "earlier."

I have to lecture him later, but for now I don't have time.

I open his door hastily, and burst into his room.

What I see almost makes me cry.

On the floor, Alex sits curled up in a blanket. He looks dazed, or maybe just like he's not really there. Even in his current state, I see him typing on his computer.

And then I _do_ start to cry, for real.

I see Alex slowly turn towards me. I start to cry harder.

He looks sick. And depressed. And like he needs my help.

I practically jump onto him. Actually, there is no practically.

A flash of surprise jumps onto his face as I jump onto him, before it dulls back to a blank slate. This display of some sort of feeling gives me hope. I hug the life out of him before taking a different approach.

I get mad.

I wouldn't do this if I didn't think it would help, but I think he needs to know that there are people that won't let him do this to himself. And then I'll coddle him.

First, I smack him fairly gently on the head. When this elicits only the barest of reactions, I grab him by the shoulders and shake him. This still does almost nothing, so I decide to be angry with him when he'll be able to process it.

"Alex?" I try. "Alex can you talk to me please?"

He looks up at me, apathetic, and kind of nods.

"Okay. Alex, I'm going to take you out of this apartment. Okay?"

He does his kind-of-nod again, so I continue.

"I'm going to drive you back to my dorm and then I'll…" I have to think for a moment at this. Should I contact a doctor? Would a doctor be able to help? I friend, maybe? Alex doesn't seem to have too many of those here, if they haven't helped him yet. Should I just try to help him myself? I doubt that "giving him time" would do any good, as he's been like this for probably five weeks and he doesn't seem to have gotten any better. I hope _this_ isn't better. That would be so sad.

I feel tears building up again, but I push them back down my throat for Alex's sake.  
I need to help him. I _need_ to. But how?

I wrack my brain before deciding that once I get Alex settled in the car I'll consult with Lafayette and Herc.

"I'll take care of you back in the dorm." S _ome how. "_ Okay, Alex, I'm going to need to ask you to walk out with me to my car. Can you do that?"

The sad thing is that Alex doesn't seem to care that I'm no longer actively helping him.

"What do I do?" I ask Laf and Herc after briefly telling them what happened since I got to New Jersey.

I can tell they don't know either.

"Well," Herc starts. But he doesn't finish his sentence, so I assume he gave up on any idea he might've had.

"How about," suggests Lafayette. But he, too, doesn't finish.

"And I just don't know if a doctor would be any help, as I said." I say.

"Yeah," they agree in unison.

"Oh!" Herc yelps. "This isn't a sure solution and it might not help, but I bet consulting a doctor would at least be worth a shot."

And it would be.

"Then they can tell you what they recommend," he continues.

"Herc!" I burst out. "That's genius!"

"Woah, there calm down," he says, chuckling.

"Okay," I say. "I'm sorry to cut this chat short but I want to be able to concentrate on the road more, and maybe give Alex some attention. I'm worried about him. So worried."

"Totally," agrees Laf. "Don't let us keep you. Help Alex for us, and we'll see you soon."

"Okay, bye."

Laf and Herc say bye and I hang up. I give Alex a quick glance before turning my full attention back to the road. I do let myself extend a hand to Alex - I'm confident I can do without it in my driving, using my legs and remaining arm to control the wheel, and if need be I won't hesitate to draw it back - in the hopes that it'll do _something._

Nothing happens on his end for a moment. I'm thinking I'll take my hand back soon and respect his choice, when I feel a soft kitten. Hamilton has turned into a kitten. A cute one, at that.

I must be hallucinating. Stress, most likely.

I mentally shake myself, logically aware that Alex cannot be a kitten. But the illogical part of my brain (the truer part, quite honestly) is thinking of how cute a kitten he'd make.

So, back in reality, I feel a cold, soft hand engulf mine. I smile and give him a squeeze.

There's is no returning squeeze, but I don't really mind.

I can just hope that I might've helped him, if only a little bit.

I drive with no trouble for at least half an hour, holding his hand, before he says or does anything.

And it's not much even when he does. But still, I'm grateful.

He says, "John?"

"Yeah, Alex? I'm here."

He doesn't seem satisfied, but he accepts my answer all the same and stops talking. I don't know what he wants so I have no choice, really, but to leave it.

We drive in silence all the way back to my dorm, but I think I may feel his grip on my hand tighten. This renews some of my lost hope.

We reach my dorm late, and I'm glad to get off of the road; I don't much like driving in the dark. I support Alex from the parking-lot to the door. It's surprisingly hard, especially considering how thin he looks. I open the door as quietly as I can and am surrounded by worried friends.

 _See Alex? You have people, right here. You just need to look. Look!_

But Alex doesn't respond to my mental command. I didn't really expect him to, but it's still a bit of a left down.

I feel uncharacteristically responsible helping Alexander tonight. I guess I just care for him enough to do what needs to be done in order to help him. I really hope he's okay soon. Obviously, I want him to be okay for him first and foremost, but I also feel tired being so responsible even just after a couple of hours. I'm glad when the people at the door immediately take Alexander off of my hands and give me a moment to rest.

Lafayette and Hercules try to feed Alexander while I recover my strength. I let them do that and study him for about 20 minutes before telling them that I'm emotionally exhausted and need sleep and that I think Alex should sleep too. They agree quickly and let me take Alex back to my room. Before I go, they tell me that he didn't talk to them either. I'm not surprised.

Alex walks up to my room with my assistance without any problem. I'm tired but I make sure that he's completely comfortable before relaxing myself.

I settle him in the bed opposite mine, tucking him under two blankets and hoping that he'll be able to sleep. Maybe he'll even feel better tomorrow morning. I try not to get my hopes up.

I get into bed promptly and gratefully, the warm softness encasing my tired mind as well as my body.

As I sink into the welcoming clutches of sleep, I hear a mumble from Alex's side of the room.

I quickly wake up completely and immediately jump out of bed, rushing over to Alex.

"What?" I ask softly.

"I feel," he starts, almost inaudibly, "alone."

Heart freshly broken, I make a swift decision to stay with him tonight. I don't want to sleep in his bed, as that wouldn't be socially acceptable and might crowd him, so I pull up the most comfy chair in the room to his bedside. I get some blankets and situate myself.

When I'm done, I grab Alex's hand and whisper, "I'm here now."

I think I see him give me a faint smile as we both fall asleep.


	13. I Need Him, Too

**I'm sorry if Alex's depression doesn't seem realistic, but I don't really have any experience with it and it's most likely different for most people, anyways. I guess it's just how I imagine depression. I'm also sorry if the thing that John said the doctor said is completely wrong; I have no credentials to attempt curing depression. It'd be nice if you tried to gloss over that part if you know it's wrong. Hey, maybe it's even right. But I don't know. And I'm not claiming that I do, clearly. Pretty much, please forgive me if this chapter is unrealistic. I am not a medical professional.** **I seem to have a lot of apologies… whoops.  
Oo, oo, I have another one. Sorry that Alex sleeps so much. He really does sleep a lot in this chapter...**

* * *

I feel better than I have since I snapped, all those weeks ago. I vaguely remember continuing on with my schoolwork as if I was fine, but not trying, at all, to conceal how depressed I was. I guess I felt bad enough that I couldn't even maintain my reputation. The only part of my life that didn't suffer too much was my assignments for school. I couldn't let my grades fall, no matter how dismal I felt. And I still do feel terrible. But it's better, and for that I'm grateful.

Clearer is the memory of John coming into my apartment and pulling me out of that wretched place. I need to thank him.

I try to get up and when that doesn't work I think that I should at least be able to open my eyes. But I try, and I fail. I just don't have the energy. After thinking sadly about that for a short moment, I fall back asleep. Not on purpose, I just can't bring myself to really wake up.

* * *

I manage to really wake up some time later, and, after much effort, open my eyes. The first thing I see is John's worried face somewhere above mine. I try a weak smile, for him but I don't think it goes through correctly, because he just kind of winces at it.

I croak out some unintelligible noises before trying to convey that I want water. I'm not sure if it's from the sounds or his somehow getting my confusing hand gestures, but John gets up from his chair and soon after comes back with a glass of water. I take it carefully, thankful, and drink. After the first wave of biological need, I find myself sinking back into the numbness. I notice that John looks even more worried now, and I feel compelled to attempt another bout of feeling, for him. I try to do _something_ , smile, frown maybe, but the urge subsides quickly as the exhaustion sets in again, and John continues to look worried. I lie there, almost completely unfeeling.

He eventually, probably tired of fretting over me, leaves to go somewhere else. I feel a distant pang of pain at what seems like his abandonment, but I ignore it.

The thing I said about me feeling better? Well, this is about the time that feeling really starts to crumble, shrivel up, and die.

He returns who knows how long later, looking much more happy than he did in my presence. Was being away from me really such a relief?

Between the two times I see him, Lafayette and Hercules both come in and try to coax me into saying something, first separate and then together. It does nothing, and I forget the exchanges immediately after they happen.

John, during his second visit, says something about what a doctor said, but I don't really process it. He leaves again, in higher spirits than I've seen him since yesterday.

Later, my sense of time still out of commission, I see and hear Lafayette, Hercules, and him talking outside of my door.

"So, I told him what the doctor said," comes John's voice.

"You still haven't told us anything," remarks Hercules, raising one eyebrow.

"Oh! Sorry, I kind of forgot. But he didn't really seem to understand anything I was saying."

"He who?" asks Lafayette.

Before John can respond, Lafayette continues, "Oh. You're still on the subject of Alex. Now, while I agree you should worry about him, you need to tell us how we're going to help him first. So tell us already!"

"Sorry, sorry. I'll tell you." John takes a moment to collect himself. "So the doctor said that depression is a different experience for most people, and that there are different ways to best help combat it. He said that we should talk to a specialized doctor and gave me the number of one he recommended. I called that guy, who scheduled an appointment for next Friday," at his friends surprised looks, he says, "I know! We were so lucky! And he said that until then, we should just try to be there for Alex, keep him company, talk with him if he wants to, that kind of thing. I'm thinking I might take off school for a while, tell them that something personal has come up. The doctor said that we should try to keep his alone time to a minimum."

"Okay," Herc responds.

"Also, he said not to let him sleep all of the time. Sleep during the night is good, but too much might just make him more tired and worsen his condition."

"Yeah, that sounds good," says Lafayette.

They seem to think I can't hear them. While this isn't true, it isn't completely wrong either. I don't process or remember anything they say. I go back to sleep.

Now that I don't have work to do because I don't have or know where my computer is, I find that sleeping is my new, biggest pastime.

* * *

I wake up again, feeling the most sluggish than I have in the last two days. I turn my head and see John in the dim light from the moon and stars in the window. He's asleep next to my bed. I feel a weak spark of satisfaction that he's back. I don't feel like I need to drink, eat, or go to the bathroom, but just by how long it's been since I've done those things, I know I should. I, using as much concentration to be quiet as I can muster, get out of bed and step past John. He stirs, but doesn't wake up.

First, I go to the bathroom. On the way there, I notice that the dorm is completely silent. This is probably because of the time, I guess that it's about four in the morning. When I take a peek at a clock my suspicions are confirmed. I go to the kitchen and get a glass of water. I definitely don't have the energy to make food, so I just promise myself that I'll eat something tomorrow.

I go back up to John's room, tired out by my small excursion. He's still sleeping soundly as far as I can tell, so I get back in bed, prepared to fall back into my numb sleep. I lie down on the bed. I try to sleep.

I lie there for my customary ten minutes or so, expecting to fall asleep any time now...

But I can't sleep. This almost never happens, and hasn't at all since- for the last month or so. I don't know what to do. I don't want to wake John, and I don't have my computer to do work on.

I want - no I _need_ to write. Writing is _such_ an integral part of my life. Even when I can barely do anything else, I can write. Taking my writing away isn't something people should do. I need it.

So I get up again and I write. Since I don't have a computer, I have to write old style, with a pencil on paper. I find those easily and sit in the common room on a chair with a lamp near it. Since I don't have any assignments, I have to think of something to write.

I've been feeling in a poetry mood for a while, so I decide to just write down some stuff. At least it's something for me to write, and no one will read it so the low level of my poetry won't be taken notice of by anybody.

I think about what I should write about. I wonder what has made me feel something stronger than my blend of blurred feelings. It doesn't take me long to realize. John. It's been John, and only John. After that writing is relatively easy. I write many poems.

I feel relieved after writing my feelings down, getting the too-strong ones out on paper, and quickly fall asleep. John still occupies all of the space in my mind.

* * *

The next day is a school day, I'm sure, so I expect to spend it alone. I'll sleep most of the day. Maybe I'll write. What I don't expect is that, when I wake up, John is still sitting in the chair next to me. I wonder if maybe school hasn't started yet. Looking closer, I see that his eyes are open, so I ask him.

"When are you leaving?" My mouth works fairly well, although the words do come out a little but slurred.

He looks over at me suddenly, startled.

"I'm not," he seems to think that this is obvious.

"Oh."

We lapse back into silence. I thought we'd gotten over it, but I guess I've changed enough. It's back to being awkward.

I look closer at John. It takes me a second, but I finally notice what I had noticed as a general "offness" before.

His eyes are a little bit puffy and look more red than usual. It seems as if he was crying, which means I made him cry.

I feel terrible suddenly, so angry at myself for making him cry. Then, I feel happy that I felt anything at all. After that, I feel horrified that I took satisfaction in something that came from me causing John to _cry._

I decide, after that roller coaster, that feeling isn't doing me any good at this point. I try to stop and it's frighteningly easy, although I'm not surprised.

* * *

The next few days go past in a blur. With John's constant presence at my side, I start _very_ slowly, and very inconsistently, to feel a little bit better. I do sometimes feel guilty about him missing school, but he assures me it's nothing and I take his word for it.

Suddenly, it's Friday, and things start to happen very quickly. John, having told me about the appointment beforehand, takes me to the doctor's office.

Once we get there, after he's gotten me all set up with the doctor, he goes to leave. I implore him to stay with my eyes, but it turns out I don't need to. He does leave, but he stays near the door, out of earshot. I appreciate the privacy.

At first I don't much like the doctor. I don't think this has anything to do with _him,_ but more just with how I'm feeling. But as the session continues, and he talks to me about what I'm feeling and what would be signs if I was getting better or worse, and generally informs me, I get to like him better. Telling people the plain, simple, and sometimes cruel facts wouldn't work on all people, but it helps me. I learn so much, and I start to feel like getting myself out of the impossibly big hole I'm in may not be as impossible as I thought. He talks some about what he recommends we try first, and we decide on a prescription drug that has helped a lot of people in his experience. I leave the appointment feeling optimistic about my situation, and as I go to leave he tells me that he'd like to have a short talk with John about what's happening now and what's going to. I agree that such a conversation sounds good and retrieve John from the waiting room. He looks overjoyed at my, I assume, better-looking face when he sees me. I send him to talk to the doctor.

* * *

It comes up later, in a conversation between John, Lafayette, Hercules, and me what the doctor told him.

According to John's memory, it went something like:

"Hello, John." A pause "So I think that Alex's depression isn't as bad as some cases I've seen. I've given him a prescription and recommended that he talks to people any time he feels even the slightest desire to. It may seem untrue, or cliche or something, but talking helps a lot of people."

"Okay, sounds good. You think he'll be able to get better without to much trouble?"

"Yes, I do. And another thing: I like how you're concerned, at this point, only for how Alex feels. After he is better, you may feel like you want to look at him differently, or you may feel resentful towards him for putting you through the work this is going to take. However, I think you should try to minimize that, or at least your negative feelings you may experience towards him because of this. You might think it'll be easy to go back to how you used to be, however that was, that there'll be a definite _end_ to the whole ordeal, but that usually isn't the case. Seeing Alex as he will be the next while could definitely change how you see him, and there's always the possibility of this happening again. From what he told me, Alex has already experienced a much less severe version of what he's going through now. I just implore that after this is all better, you try to be a good friend to him still. It would be terrible for him if people started distancing themselves from him."

John gave a resolute nod, saying, "Of course. I'll try."

The doctor finally let himself smile. It looked to John like he might be thinking something such as, _man, this guy is lucky. He has real, good friends who will help him so much. Not many people who need the help friends can provide have the friends to provide it._

* * *

When John comes out the room, I catch a glimpse of the doctor, smiling to himself. It gives me a strange sense of hope.

* * *

 **Well that's promising, right?**


	14. And It Hurts

**So I might have gotten stuff about college applications, but hey, I'm a youngin. Give me some slack.**

* * *

Life goes on; I try a couple different prescriptions and find that the second one I try works best. As I feel better, I talk more about what I feel and what I want, which in turn makes me feel better. It's a great cycle, and like many such have been, I'm pretty sure John started it.

I just feel so grateful to him, and I try to tell him whenever I can. When I do, he just insists that he's the one grateful, that he's happy I'm getting better. This always makes me feel good.

After a week of recovery, still in New York, I decide that I should go back to New Jersey. Back to Princeton. At this point I've reached a scarily large amount of absences, although they've all been excused. But I need to get back.

At first when I tell this to John, he protests. I think he wants to gauge my recovery himself, which I find sweet. But I tell him that I can't bear to miss anymore school, that I'll still come over for weekends and if I don't he is allowed to and should totally come and retrieve me. When he doesn't seem very swayed, I remind him that there's less than a month left in the school year, and that with this small amount of time left, I need all of it, if not more, to catch up.

He agrees reluctantly and when I ask them, Herc and Laf react in similar ways.

I'm not feeling great, sure, and I'm nowhere near as happy as I was the weekend of the prank war, but I'm feeling so much better. And my education is, has always been, and will always be very, very important to me.

John insists that he drive me home on Sunday, and I'm quick to agree. I've come to love talking to him. This is just another chance.

* * *

Sunday is normal.

We hang out, relaxed, with almost everyone in the dorm. Most people know by now why I've been here for so long and my whole story, or at least the parts I want them to. No one has really shown or said that they mind much, though, which is nice.

After a nice afternoon, where I don't have any noticeable sad moments, John tells me that we should leave now.

He takes me to his car, and I take a second to admire it. I used to think that it was just a fine car, but somehow anything associated with John is so much better now. It's a nice car, great even. I'm excited to ride in it, although that may have more to do with the time I'll have with John.

We get into the car, and John starts on the way to New Jersey. We talk a little bit, but by the strange way John is acting I can tell something is up.

I give him a little bit of time before asking, "What's up? You're acting different that usual."

John hesitates.

"Please just tell me. You know, the whole honesty thing and stuff. Plus, the suspense is killing me."

I wink at him, and he smiles weakly back at me.

"Okay," he finally concedes, after a long pause. "I'll just say it." He takes a deep breath. "So, you know how we want you to come and stay with us over the summer?"

Him, Laf, and Herc helping me so dutifully over the past few weeks has brought us closer, so they asked me last Thursday to stay with them over the summer. I agreed, of course.

"Yes."

"Well, I was wondering," he pauses. I've seen John hesitant, but never this strongly so. "Do you think you might," he pauses again and looks away from me for a second. Without turning back, he forces out in a burst of air, "If you might want to move in with us? Like always?" He continues on quickly without giving me time to respond. "I know that it'd be hard for you to live with us and go to Princeton every day, but I was thinking, since you've told me that someday you wanted to go to Columbia, maybe you'd try to transfer colleges?" He's been steadily turning red throughout the whole exchange, and he's reached a point where his freckles aren't even visible any more. It's reached the point where I feel kind of embarrassed for him when I look at him, even though I don't think he has any reason to be embarrassed.

"I'm sorry. That sounded good in my head but it's obviously too much to ask for you to transfer colleges. What was I thinking? I'm so sorry." he's been gradually speeding up as he talks, so I have a hard time understanding the end of his speech.

If only to stop him from continuing, I make myself process quickly and answer.

"That's a really good idea, actually. I'd love to, although I'm not sure if I'd be able to get together an application in time. The deadline is either already passed, or very soon."

I realize that transferring colleges might seem a bit extreme, but it's true, as he said, that I've wanted to go to Columbia for a while.

"Oh, yeah," he responds. "That's totally fine. Maybe after next year. It was just a suggestion. A stupid one at that," he tries to laugh it off, but I can tell he's upset.

"But I want to try. Actually, let me look up the deadline now. I have my application for princeton somewhere, I'm sure, and I can totally use that as a thing to build off of." I take a moment to look up the deadline, and while it's loading I look at John for a second. He's looking at the steering wheel confusedly, and it makes me weirdly happy. At least he doesn't look sad anymore.

"Oh, woah!" I exclaim, looking back at me phone. "That's crazy!"

"What?"

"The deadline for applications is next Friday! A week later and it would've been too late."

"This is crazy. Do you- you really want to try?" I can hear the stifled hope in his voice, and it strengthens my resolve.

"Of course! I'd love to spend more time with you guys!"

"Aw, thanks," he says, the beginnings of a blush creeping up his neck and his smiling shining brilliantly. It warms my heart.

"Hey," I say, thinking of something. "Would you like to, maybe, uh, help me? Like, come and hang out at my apartment and work on the application some? It'd be helpful."

"Sure," he agrees. "That sounds nice."

"I should warn you, though: we will be doing actual work. That's the kind of guy I am. So… be prepared, I guess."

"Yeah," he replies, smiling, "I would hope so."

"Just checking," I reply, smiling back.

We continue driving and some conversations transpire. It's really nice and I can tell the tension John was feeling is gone.

* * *

We reach my apartment and get out of John's car. We walk into my apartment, and I feel the inexplicable urge to grab John's hand and hold on for dear life. I restrain myself, but it confuses me nonetheless.

I decide to wonder later, maybe finally "look into" my feelings as I promised myself earlier.

We reach my door and I invite him in, giving a grand sweep of my hand. We both walk in and I give him a brief tour. I think I might see a smidge of sadness when we come back into my "living room" (really just the biggest one I have) but I'm pretty sure I imagined it.

I go and get the materials we'll need, telling him to wait for me in the room. I spend maybe ten minutes looking around for all the stuff I might need, finally finding it and going back to meet John.

I find him crouched on the floor. I'm immediately extremely worried.

I pry his arms off of around his legs gently, which he doesn't resist, and I take a look at his face to gauge how he's feeling.

I see tears, and it hurts. I feel like it's my fault, and it hurts.

All I can think to do it pull him into a tight embrace, and hope that it eases his pain as much as it does mine.

He's quick to respond, putting his arms around me and hugging me so tight, so tight, but he needs it, and I need it.

I think it helps us both, a lot.

We stay in the hug for a long time. Afterwards, when I look at the clock, I realize it must have been at least a 20 minute hug.

A couple of minutes in, I get uncomfortable crouched on the floor. I kind of tug John up, and he goes along with me. I sit on the couch and take a moment to make sure he's situated, before resuming the hug.

I think I needed this hug. Hugs can have amazing nourishing powers, and this one definitely does.

After a while engulfed in the hug, I began to notice some details. Like how John's hands feel like they're resisting the urge to ball up, or how he smells nice.

I notice that the tightness of his hug is perfect, and that warmth emanates from him that I lack, and how nice that warmth is. How it makes me want to keep hugging him forever. How when I think about the end of our hug, I feel a pang of pain in my chest. How I'm feeling more now than I have in the last two weeks combined.

How the skin of his cheek is soft against mine, and how his hair is too.

I wonder if he feels any of the same stuff about me. But then I stop wondering because he's started rubbing his hands in circles on my back and it feels really nice. I don't try to copy what he's doing, but I give him a hopefully encouraging squeeze. He continues for a while longer before his hands probably get tired, so I assume my squeeze did it's job.

For the last few minutes of the hug, I stop noticing and just enjoy. I enjoy the hug, and man is it a good hug. I make up my mind to hug John more often.

Before the hug ends, I remark on one more thing.

How I like him.

How I really like him.

* * *

 **I have big plans for their new school year ;)  
** **Hope you enjoyed it! (I enjoyed it.) Reviews and stuff are, as always, appreciated. Thanks for reading, byeee!**


	15. Realize

**By the way, Alex's thinking habits come from: yours truly, me. I know, I'm so normal.  
Of course, forgive me for any lies I might make about college. I didn't know, I swear!**

* * *

After our great hug comes to an end, regretfully, we start on my application. I organize the stuff I already have from before while John looks up what the actual application calls for. Any awkwardness from the hug dissipates very quickly, if there was any to begin with.

"Okay," he says after looking for a short while. "Here it says…" He turns around the computer to show me the website.

"Thanks," I say and put the computer onto my lap.

I find that, luckily, I have a good amount of the general information from my old application, although some of that does have to be updated. It's better than nothing, though. A lot better.

"Okay," I tell John, "It'd be great if you could go through this some more while I update some stuff and find which parts I need to do. Write what I need down on," I pull out a piece of paper from a drawer, "this, if you would. Then look through what I've sorted at that point and see what I already have. Sound good?"

"Yeah. We really are working."

"I told you."

"I like it. Hey, after we're done with this I think it'll be too dark for me to drive home safely. So," At the same as I say "Do you want to stay here tonight?" he says "So could I maybe stay here tonight?"

We both burst out laughing, and somehow manage to say "yes" at almost the exact same time which just makes us laugh harder. We stop laughing for a while, but then one of us eventually lets out a snort and we end up dissolving into giggles again.

After we've finally gotten it out of our systems, we go back to work. If one of us relapses every once in awhile, no one needs to know.

We work like that for a couple of hours. When he finishes doing as much of his task as he can, I assign him to make himself, and me if he wants, some food while I finish up what I'm working on. He does that and we have a little meal.

"Okay," I say once we're both done eating. "Let's work on this together. Sort of much of this as you can," I point at a pile, "and feel free to ask me any questions you might have."

"Cool."

We get almost all of the informational part of the application done, and I think to check that my immense scholarship will carry over at least a little to Columbia. I end up on the phone with someone working at Columbia who tells me the estimated cost and how much I can get payed for by a scholarship. He tells me that I could have entered for some other scholarships if I'd considered it earlier in the year, which sucks, but that I can still get certain scholarships. The end total he gives me seems relatively manageable, so I tell him thank you and hang up. I make up my mind to enter as many writing things online to get money as I can over the summer, and to have as high a paying job as I can get. It's a high order, but then again, I'm a hard-working person. I'll manage. I will. With friends this summer, I'll just have more motivation to work even harder.

John and I end up finally retiring sometime around midnight. I feel very satisfied with how much we got done together, and when I tell John he agrees. Pretty much all I have to do is write an essay, although there is some other stuff. It doesn't cross my mind that I won't get in. I got into Princeton and I'm one of the best students there. That should tell them how high achieving I can be, right? I don't have a reason to worry, as far as I'm concerned. Even if I don't get accepted, I'll try again. And again. Until I get in, because I _will_ get in.

There's only one bed in my apartment, so I offer to let John sleep on the bed while I sleep on the couch. He agrees, saying, "Oh, fine. I'll do it. But only for you. You should really appreciate my sacrifice."

"Of course, and I do," I say empathetically.

After a moment of silence, I walk over and teasingly poke his nose. He smiles, and after a moment of thought tries to do the same to me. I, with my amazing agility, dodge of course, before falling down onto the floor on my back. Amazing agility, as I said.

John bends over and pokes me on the nose while I am still sore from falling and can't do anything about it. He then walks away, going over to my bed to go to sleep. I take his example and go over to the couch, shaking my head at how rude of him it was to poke my nose.

"What did I do to deserve that?" I ask.

In response, he merely walks back into the living room, pokes me again on the nose, and goes back to the bed.

"Night," I say loud enough so that he can hear me in the next room, although it's not very far away and I can see his feet.

"Night," he responds.

We lay in silence, in our own worlds, for a couple of minutes, before I remember.

The talk.

Ugh.

 _Okay,_ I think. _So. I have to deal with my feelings. Fun, huh? Yeah, no. Well, uh, I guess I should just go ahead and dive in? Wait, who am I asking. It's just you, me. No one is listening. God, ya little… me. So... I should stop saying so._

 _Actually,_ the inner me that is more concentrated than the me that's been talking says, _maybe you should actually_ sort out your feelings. _Huh? Isn't that what you're trying to do here, with this weird speech. And yes, it is a speech. You're the only one talking. I'm you, remember. Goodness._ That me internally shakes his head at me.

 _Okay, okay. Feelings._ I pause for a second, not thinking anything. _You know what? I have no idea how to do this. A little help?_

 _No._

 _Fine. So, this is all about John. There, I've said it. John. Either I like John, as in platonically, or I_ like _John, as in romantically. Oh god, I'm doing it again. I don't have to explain myself to myself. I automatically know what I'm talking about. I'm_ me. _Okay, get it together. John. Back on topic. Phew. Okay. John._

Yes, this is how I talk to myself. I'm extremely productive, and I'm sure I'll be asleep in no time.

 _Well, first let's think about the friendship thing._

And yes, I do sometimes think as if I'm multiple people.

 _I'm sure that I like him a lot, and even if I do like him romantically as well, I definitely want to be friends with him. I want to get closer. I want to spend time with him. It's not implausible that I like him romantically; I find him attractive physically and mentally and have liked men._

 _Oo, oo, I thought of something,_ contributes some other part of myself. _You aren't really getting anywhere with this pointless monologue-_

 _Wow thanks. I mean I thought I was starting to make some pro-_

 _You're welcome. So, anyways, what if you thought about your past self? You could become an investigator guy and be like, "So, based on all of the evidence I have hear, I like John" and then proclaim the verdict. And stroke your beautiful mustache._

 _Hey, that's a good idea._

 _I know. Don't thank- no, actually please thank me._

 _Thank you._

I smile at myself.

 _Well, that wasn't at all creepy._

 _Not at all._

 _But, we_ do _have an actually way to approach this now! That's good. Okay, so let's examine past me._

I put on a straight face and call up my memories. I attempt to distance myself from them and see them as if I'm an outside viewer. I fail.

 _Ah, I really did love that conversation we had at the park. And man, have we had some good hugs._

Then I take a long moment to remember and bask in the hug of earlier tonight.

 _Mm. That was nice. Okay, back to work._

 _But I'm tired._

 _True. but we still have to try. At least for a little bit. So, memory of importance exhibit number one:_ I pause a moment, try to think of a memory fitting the description.

 _Well that was completely fruitless. Okay, okay, I'll try again. This probably isn't the_ first _memory of importance, but let's take into note just earlier today when I wanted to hold John's hand. This seems to indicate a romantic liking, although friends can surely hold hands too… Darnit, another inconclusive. Wait! Let's think about how I wanted to hold his hand. Was it romantic? I think it was. I'm not sure. Being myself makes me biased. I need someone to examine my intentions for me. Ugh. Well this whole memory thing isn't getting me anywhere either, although it was a good idea, so I think I should just try to imagine how I would feel if I was actually dating John. Would it be bad? Gross? Weird? Great? Perfect?_

I imagine.

 _I guess that's that. It's obvious now._

* * *

 **I wonder what he decided... Nah, it's obvious.  
** **Thank you to anyone who's reviewed and that kinda stuff. It really means a lot! Thank you :D  
** **(And I have to say, griffinpuff13, that your review cracked me up and made my day. Thankee!)**


	16. Decisions

It feels so right.

 _So_ right.

It seems like it should've been obvious.

But now… Now what do I do?

 _Well,_ answers helpful me, _you should sleep. Maybe your subconscious will figure it out. But it's late. Sleep._

 _Good idea._

I go to sleep.

I wake up early in the morning to my alarm (John needs to head home at seven-thirty if he wants to get to his first class) and immediately check to see if I have a solution to last night's dilemma.

 _Nope._

 _Darn. Well at least I have another week before I have to decide. That is, if I manage to stay cool this morning._

I get up off the couch, groggily, and see that John is doing the same in the next room.

"Hey," I say, blinking, once we're both standing.

John just nods back, as groggy as me.

"So we have twenty minutes before you have to leave."

He nods again.

"You should shower first."

This time he doesn't even bother with nodding, but silently goes over to my bathroom, which I take as a yes.

Not long into his shower I hear something that makes me laugh.

"Do you hear the people sing? Singing the song of angry men? It is the music of a people who will _not_ be slaves again! When the beating of your heart," I stop processing the words as he continues on, singing. I just enjoy the sound of his voice and laugh to myself. I only know the musical because my ex-girlfriend made me watch it (although I did end up liking it) and now that I think of it, John _does_ seem like a musical kind of guy. That thought makes me smile again to myself, chuckling a bit. He's so cute. Which I can now admit to myself freely, without any confusion or guilt. It's a great feeling.

After John finishes his shower, at which point I say "Nice singing" and wink and he slightly blushes and smiles, I take a quick shower of my own.

He's still in my room when I finish, so I tell him to vacate it while I change. I finish changing and go over to him in the next room. He turns around and smiles at me.

"So I have to leave now, I guess. I'll miss you," he walks over and hugs me. I respond immediately, hugging him tightly back.

"It'll only be a week," I say, chuckling, once the hug has ended.

"Yeah, I'm sure I'll survive," he says, still smiling. "I'm excited for you to come and live with us. "So am I. Well bye!"

"Bye!"

He gives me a wave and heads out the door. I stand for a couple of seconds, my hand still semi-raised, before slumping down to the floor. I gather up energy to crawl to the couch and lie down there, thinking.

 _Okay, now I have a week to figure out_ what the heck I'm going to do! _What am I going to do?_ What am I going to do?

I cradle my head in my hands for a moment, freaking out.

 _Calm down. Calm yourself. Good. First thing you need to decide: Do you want John to know you like him? Do you think that you want to make a bold move and ask him out? Or do you just want to stay friends? Do you think that staying friends would lead to eventual dating?_

I think about the first question.

 _I think I'll eventually want John to know and to ask him out, but I really don't want to rush it or ruin our friendship or anything like that. Maybe I'll try the subtle approach?_

 _What's that?_

… _I don't know. I'm not even really sure if I'm capable of being subtle. Well, the one thing I can decide is that until I've decided, I'll attempt to not let him know I like him. That would be stressful._

 _Okay, I need to eat and don't really want to think about this so I'm gonna leave this subject until later. What? I have a week. Deal with it, me._

I go and eat a small breakfast slowly in the kitchen. I decide that I should try to catch up on any school work that I can in the hour I have before my first class. I get out my computer and sit at my desk. I find that after an initial feeling of being out of practice, I can continue to write almost entirely normally. I finish the assignment that was the most overdue with fifteen minutes to spare.

I still don't want to think about John, so I tidy up around my house. It _did_ get pretty dirty while I wasn't maintaining it and it didn't get any better while I was gone.

Finally, it's time to go to the campus. I go outside and walk slowly towards the building I need to go to. It's quiet in the streets. Quieter than I remember. It's kind of relaxing, despite the fact that I've never liked the quiet before. I enjoy it while it lasts, and continue to my class.

Catching up turns out to be hard. Really hard. I'm already very overwhelmed after only the first class. I have been away for a long time, after all.

At the beginning of class I turn in an assignment and try to learn as much as I possibly can from the lesson being taught. There are some things I don't understand, but it goes relatively well. After class it when it really gets hard. I approach the teacher, who is, luckily, one of the nicer ones. She turns back to me when I say her name to get her attention and smiles.

"Hello, Alexander. I see you're back." I nod. "Well, you're probably here to get caught up on assignments, right?" I nod again.

I brought a notebook to the front of the room to write my assignments in, and I pull it out now. The teacher goes behind her desk and turns on her computer.

"Okay," she says, getting to the page with the assignments. "Which day was your first absence?"

"It was two weeks ago exactly, the 13th I think."

She looks around on her computer for a couple more seconds.

"Okay, here it is. I'm going to tell you all of the assignments you missed and that have been assigned while you were gone, and then is it okay if I let you get notes from someone on your own time?"

"Yes, that sounds good. When do you want me to turn all of these in by?"

"Let me see how many there are first, then I'll decide. The first assignment you missed was…"

She turns the computer so that we can both see it, listing all of the assignments day by day. When she finishes, I take a look at my notebook, dreading what I'm going to see.

Oh. No. That is not good. Over the span of two weeks, I've somehow missed nine assignments, none of which are easy or quick to do. All in one class. I'll admit this class in particular is heavy on assignments, but it's still terrifying. I take a moment to calm myself, before speaking again.

"So," I say in a small voice, "when should these all be turned in by?"

"Well," she replies, "I think the first five should be done by next Monday." At least she's giving me the weekend. "And the next four should all be done before the end of class the Monday after that."

 _Okay,_ I tell myself. _This isn't so bad. I have weekends. I may have to spend the whole day, every day, finishing these assignments, but at least I'll finish them._

"Thank you, Miss Elier. I appreciate it."

"No, thank you for getting the assignments. Some people don't, which never ends well. And I hope your feeling better now."

"Yeah, I am. Well, I should head off and start on these assignments. Bye."

"Bye."

I leave the class feeling slightly relieved. I only have an hour before my next class, where the teacher is not as friendly, and I intend to use it to the fullest.

Before I start, I have to get notes. I know just who to get them from, so I text him. He replies promptly, telling me to meet him at the library as soon as I can.

I put all of my books in a bag and quickly walk over to the library. He's already there when I arrive, and is carrying his notes.

"Hey, James. How are you?"

"Good. You're feeling better?"

"Much. So those are the notes? There are more notes than I would've expected."

"Well I also brought the notes from the other classes we share, in case you need them."

"Oh, that makes sense. I do, thanks. That's really helpful."

"Anytime."

He hands me the notes, and I say, "I'll have these all back within two weeks, or if you need them sooner I can finish faster."

"Two weeks is fine."

"So, you know how you're probably going to transfer to Columbia next year?" Madison nods at me. "Well I've very recently decided that I want to try to do that too, so I've started preparing the application."

"Oh," he says, surprised. "That's really cool. I hope we both get accepted."

"Yeah, so do I. I just felt like telling you. Anyways, thank you again."

"No problem."

"Bye."

"Bye."

I go to an empty table in the corner of the library and start studying. I study until my next class starts, which ends up pretty similar to my first, assignment-wise. Some of my classes have less work and one even has more, but the day is fairly normal.

The week continues on in this fashion, me still working whenever I can on assignments.

At the end of the week, I leave yo New York City, taking my work with me, never having remembered to think about John.

Finally reaching the dorm Friday night, I remember.

 _Oh no._

* * *

 **Well, that's the chapter. I hope you all enjoyed it.**  
 **Thanks, everyone, for the reviews and support!**


	17. I'll Tell Him

**Just so you guys know, since school is starting soon and my life is getting kind of hectic, I'm going to lower the publish days to only Friday. Sorry, but it'll be a lot easier on me and I hope you all can understand.**

* * *

I stop walking, my mind going blank, and stand completely still in front of the door, just staring into space. I try, after a second, to think of a solution, something, but I find that my brain really has shut off. After about a minute I realize that I must look very strange standing at the door. I panic, thinking something along the lines of what if John sees me?

This snaps me out of my trance and I jerk my right hand towards the door. I hesitate for a second, my hand just barely touching the cold metal. I push away all of my confusing feelings and force myself to "just open the door already."

There's barely anyone in the common room so I decide to read a book and wait until someone comes and retrieves me. I pull out my book, Feet of Clay, which I'm reading, along with the rest of the City Watch series, for the second time. After reading about a page, I'm immersed in the story. I read and read, my eyes quickly scanning and putting together the words, wide open. Even the second time around, the story is great.

I get quite a shock when someone taps me on my shoulder. My head jerks upwards and I look around for the source of the tap. Turning to my left, I see John out of the corner of my eye. I relax, the surprise wearing off.

"Hey, Alex. How've you been?"

"Hey. Good, you?"

"Also good. Care to elaborate?"

I pause for a moment, thinking.

"Sure, except, not much happened. I went to class. There was a lot of makeup work, I guess." I realized that I have a major crush on you and forgot to decide what to do. "That's pretty much it."

"That's good, although it's too bad about the makeup. You'll probably end up spending a lot of time this weekend on it, won't you?" I nod.

"Yeah. But hey, at least I didn't come back to school any later."

"True."

"What about your week?"

"Eh, it was just normal. Nothing much happened. School was fine. I missed you. All that kind of stuff."

I blush a little but try to reign it in so that he won't notice anything amiss.

"Sounds boring."

"Yup."

"Is there any school stuff you should start on now? Maybe I could even help you with something."

"Yeah, I should probably get started. I can't really think of any way for you to help except to morally support me and keep me on track, that sort of stuff."

"I can do that."

"Cool. I'll just pick up my bags and go up to your room- er, that's okay, right?"

"Yep, I'm gonna get a snack and I'll meet you."

I nod at him and we part ways. I go up to his room and open the door quietly. When I go inside, I decide to take a moment to study the room, just for fun. Also, John won't be weirded out at me examining his room because he won't be here.

I take a long, slow look around, taking in as many details as I can.

The walls are a light blue, which is true for all of the rooms, except that the color is barely visible through all of the drawings, posters, and other things the cover up almost all of the wall-space. I notice that he seems to have a slight organization to all of the stuff on the walls, when I process more. I can see that he grouped all of his posters together, while the drawings are on a different wall entirely. The posters take up one wall, the drawings take up two, including the wall with the door on it, and the last wall is miscellaneous. I examine some of the stuff on the walls for a long time (mostly his drawings) and then remember that the rest of the room exists.

I tear my eyes away from the captivating drawings and take a look around once more. Other than his walls, there isn't really anything particular in his room that stands out. There are two beds on each side, which every room has, and two desks next to each other, which are both covered in his drawings. He's somewhere in between very organized and very messy, probably about average.

I look around a bit more, still taking in as many unimportant details as I can, before clearing off and situating myself on a desk. I look through my bag to see what I should work on, and pick out one of the bigger projects due next monday. I get to work.

Some minutes later, John joins me with a plate of cheese and crackers. He sets it down on the desk I'm at before going over to the nearest bed and flopping down. We sit together in silence, me working, him listening to music. I lose track of time, managing to get almost half of one of my bigger projects done before noticing that John has pulled up a chair and is sitting next to me. We continue to sit together, the same except that John is leaning on me slightly so that our shoulders are touching. Constantly conscious of our contact, I try to continue getting work done.

After I've recently cleared the halfway point of the project, he nudges me and randomly starts singing quietly. I don't think the lyrics have any significance, but simply imagine that they've been stuck in his head for a while because the song tends to do that.

"How the world may be changed in just one burst of light! And what was right seems wrong. And what was wrong seems right," he sings, dramatically gesturing with his hands.

I continue the lyrics, singing a bit softer than necessary, "Red! I feel my soul on fire!"

I think that's when he figures it out. Maybe he heard the badly concealed passion in my voice, maybe he saw it in my expression, maybe he just knew because.

But he knows.

I decide, then and there, to ask him out this weekend and tell him I want to date him. If he feels the same way, great. If not, I'll survive and hopefully stay his good friend. I mean, he almost certainly knows, so I might as well tell him myself and see if there can be something there.

He pauses for a moment, before smiling reluctantly, and finishing the line, still looking confused.

"Sorry to distract you," he says after a moment of silence. "You should get back to work."

I nod and try not to freak out.

I finish the project within two hours, having finally been able to concentrate after trying for a very long time. John is still sitting next to me, although I think he might be asleep. His eyes are closed and he's just sitting there, his earbuds emitting a very faint sound of more music from various musicals.

I stand up from my chair for a moment and stretch, slightly hunched and sore from sitting for so long. Once I finish stretching, I tap John to see if he's awake. His eyes open slightly and he mumbles something incoherent. I figure that he's asleep enough that I shouldn't wake him up and push the chair over to his bed. I pull him off of the chair with as little disturbance as a can manage and flop him onto the bed. He stays silent and still so I pull his earbuds out and turn his music off. I put them and his phone on a desk and flop into my own bed.

Well, I couldn't even manage a day, huh? You should've thought about it over the week. Now he knows and you're actually going to have to take initiative! It's gonna be terrifying. And it's all your fault.

I shake my head at myself.

What are you going to do? You've never asked anyone out before, and this is the first time it really matters. You can't mess it up. He's an absolutely great guy and you need to have him in your life, romantically or not. You need him.

I sigh and, deciding that I don't want to deal with daunting thoughts tonight, pull out my phone. I steal John's earbuds and put on some classical piano music. I'm almost asleep when I hear Fur Elise begin to play. Of course, it makes me think of John. I know that the music won't be distracting enough now, so I decide to listen to different music. Still instrumental, so it won't keep me up to much, but more intense.

I finally manage to fall asleep, late in the night, listening to music. Even through the music which should really be able to distract me, my thoughts are somehow _still_ on John.


	18. Matchmaking

**Hello everyone! Here I present to you a new chapter! From now on, as I said, I will only be publishing Fridays. To whoever said they check every day, one, I'm flattered and thank you for the nice review, and two a tip: just check Fridays, as that's when I'll be publishing. I'm glad you like it so much but I don't want you to waste your time :)  
This is a chapter more focused on the relationship of Lafayette and Hercules because I felt like they needed some spotlight. Also, I just felt like changing it up. MWAHAHAHAHA I AM IN COMPLETE CONTROL.**

* * *

Hercules nudges Lafayette with his shoulder as they lie next to each other on the soft carpet of their dorm room.

"So, do you think either of them has finally figured it out?"

Lafayette half snorts. "I'd be amazed," he pauses to think. "Although Alex did seem a little bit more hesitant. That could mean something."

"Or nothing."

"True."

Hercules sighs and says, "I'm tempted to just chant 'Kiss! Kiss! Just kiss already!'"

"I think everyone is. Although from what John's told me, they've had some 'nice' hugs. I believe that steamy would be the better word, but I'm just quoting him."

"Wait, I've never hear about this!" Hercules says, mock offended.

"Ah, how sorry I am, monsieur. Next time I will inform you promptly with any news on their love life."

Hercules chuckles into the quiet, empty room.

"Thank you, server boy. That will be all."

Lafayette shoves Hercules lightly with his left elbow.

"Sometimes I swear, you," Lafayette pauses to roll his eyes. "You know you really need to appreciate me more. I'm super great."

"Yeah, I really should."

Hercules leans to the right without thinking and kisses Lafayette on the cheek.

"Happy?" he says, trying to cover up how embarrassed he is.

Oh god I made a mistake. Why did I even do it? No, I know why I did. But I don't want him to know. Hercules sighs inwardly.

Lafayette just makes a noncommittal noise, and they both blush into the darkness.

What does this mean? Should I get my hopes up? Is that stupid? I bet it's stupid. But still… Lafayette squeals inwardly.

"Well," Lafayette finally says, some minutes later. "Goodnight, I guess."

"Yeah, goodnight."

They both slowly get off of the floor and go to their beds, still blushing.

.

John wakes up before me and I wake up to him singing a song I don't know. I slowly rise from the bed and John turns around, hearing me. He pulls his earphones out.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up. Although it's already kind of late, so maybe I didn't do such a bad thing."

"Yeah," I say, taking a moment to yawn. "I should wake up." I yawn again and close my eyes for a second. I open them again and shake my head slightly, trying to lessen the tiredness.

"So, whatcha doing?" I ask after a moment.

"Hm?" John says, looking up from his desk. "Oh, I'm mostly cleaning up this side of the room for you to use in the summer and, as always, thinking."

"Thanks, that'll be nice."

"Yeah."

"So… What about?"

"What?"

"What're you thinking about?"

"Oh. Well," he starts, leaning towards me conspiratorially. "I think," he says in a quiet voice, "that Laf and Herc's relationship might finally progressing."

I think I might understand but since I'm not completely sure, I cock my head in question.

"You know. It's obvious that they- or at least they seem to- both like each other, isn't it?"

I think about it for a moment.  
"Yeah, I guess so," I say, nodding. "Although I've never considered it before."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Huh."

I pause for a moment, contemplating the possible relationship between two of my friends.

"So why do you think it's progressing?"

"Oh, well," he starts to look conspiratorial again. "This morning I woke up super early and I went over to their room to see if they were awake. They were awake, so I talked to them a bit." He starts rubbing his hands together. "I used my extraordinary detective skills to observe them and deduced that something, most likely good, had happened. I think it was because I felt a different atmosphere, with more tension. But good tension. You know?"

"Oh I know," I respond, waggling my eyebrows. He shakes his head, pretending to be disappointed.

"So I bet something happened, although I'm not sure what. I want to get it out of one of them. The suspense is killing me!"

"And me. Hey, if they tell you, you should tell me. Unless they don't want you to tell me. I guess, respect their wishes but remember that I'd also like to know."

"Sounds good."

"Cool. Man, now I'll be guessing what happened for a long time."

"Yeah, so will I most likely. Hey, tell me if you think of something that seems like it might actually be true."

"Okay. Same to you."

"Okay."

I pause for a moment before saying, contemplatively, "You know, I did see them playing strip poker that one time. Alone."

"Yep."

"Hey," Lafayette says, later that day, in the common room.

"Hey," I respond, "How've you been? I didn't get a chance to talk to you yesterday."

"Oh, I've been good. I've just been hanging out with John and Herc," I see a hint of a blush when he says "Herc" which gives me a strong sense of satisfaction, "and that kind of thing. You?"

"I've been good too, me week was pretty average except that I have more work to make up, what with missing so much school.."

"Oh, yeah, that makes sense. Good luck with that."

"Thanks."

"Hey!" says John, dragging Hercules over by the arm. "I got him to come over here and now I present to the world the fully assembled group of people that is us."

"Wow," says Hercules, slow clapping."I'm amazed. If you would have told me that I would've come over on my own, no questions asked."

"Whoops. But this worked so it's all good."

"So, what do you all want to do this weekend?" asks Lafayette, looking around our circle. Another hint of a blush tints his cheek when he looks at Hercules, and I think I see his eyes, very quickly, flick down to Hercules lips, although I could've imagined it. "Other than study, of course."

"I want to force Herc to play his-" John starts. Stopping because Hercules elbows John, hard, in the side. "What?" he asks, feigning innocence.

Herc glares at him. "You know I've sworn never to play in front of you again. The last time I did, you laughed. A lot. It wasn't fun. I refuse to go through that again. And I never even played it either. I just had it."

"Aw, Herc. C'mon. I love your-" Hercules elbows him again. John pouts while I continue to be confused.

Seeing my confusion, Lafayette leans towards me and says, "So, Herc plays the-" shooting a look at Hercules, he stops himself. "An instrument. And since John likes to sing so much and I play the French horn," I snort. "Yes, yes, it's very funny. Anyways, because we play instruments, me and John, that is, we were jamming together," I just barely keep myself from snorting this time, although I'm not entirely sure why I feel the need to snort in the first place. "and Herc said he would come join us, and we agreed. Neither of us knew what he played, so when he showed up with his instrument, John may have laughed more than strictly necessary, and Hercules may have said he'd never play it in front of John again, and here we are. Although I've heard him play myself, and he's really good."

"Is it bad of me to ask what he plays?"

"Well… Hey Herc! Can I tell Alex what you play?"

Hercules lets out a pained noise. "Might as well just get it over with. Fine."

"Okay. It's really not that bad."

But after Lafayette tells me I have to take a moment to regain my composure before excusing myself, saying "I think I need to go… Get a drink. So I'm gonna go do that. See you guys later."

I walk as fast as I can upstairs, trying to keep a straight face but barely holding in laughter.

"You know he's laughing, right?" I hear John's faint voice from downstairs say. "Ow!"

That almost tips me over the edge, but I hold it in. I manage to get all the way to the room John and I are sharing before bursting out in silent laughter, falling onto my bed. Soon after I've finally gotten the last giggles out of my system, I hear John open the door from my face down position on the bed.

"What do you think?"

Hercules slumps down on a chair, putting his head in his hands. Lafayette sits on the edge of the chair.

"Just remember that you're really good, and forget about John. I'm sure that he would get over his ridiculousness if he heard you play."

"I know," comes the muffled reply. "Ugh. John."

Lafayette nods his head sympathetically and pats Hercules on the shoulder. "Yeah. But we love him anyways."

"Yeah," mutters Hercules. "He can be so… something. So John. It's great, I know, but it's also just so silly sometimes."

"Well, that's part of why we're his friends."

Hercules just sighs again, nodding his head faintly.

He brings his head up from his hands again. "Well, we should probably go and retrieve John before he does too much more damage to my reputation."

"We probably should."

But they don't, deciding that they'd like, more, to sit together for a while.

"So?" John prompts again, holding in some more laughter of his own.

"Yeah, I just don't know what to think. It doesn't really seem to suit him, but maybe, now that I think about it, it does. It's just… Huh. Of all things, the oboe."

* * *

 **Yay, chapter. I think a bit of my awkwardness may have leaked into the conversations in this chapter... so just know it wasn't their fault.  
** **I'm very sorry for making Lafayette play the French Horn, because I don't really think it suits his personality, but I couldn't resist. Sorry! Also, I'm not sure at all why I made Hercules play the instrument I chose. I might have discussed it with a friend. I'm not sure. I have a bad memory. Anyways, I felt like it and I am still in complete control so MWAHAHAHAHA!  
** **I would also like to add that all instruments are equal in my view (although I'll admit I do favor the trumpet, but that's only because I play it) and I didn't mean to belittle any instruments if I accidentally did.  
** **Anyways, thanks again to all the readers and supporters for, well, reading and supporting. I hope you enjoyed this chapter!**


	19. Blushing

**Hello again. How've you all been? I've been good, myself. I hope you've all been good. And now, the chapter.**

* * *

John bursts out laughing again, and I hear, mixed with laughter, "I know. It's pretty funny, isn't it?."

"Yeah. Well. I'm not sure. I mean, if you think about it, it does kind of suit him, in a way, although," I imagine Hercules with his large stature and general immense mass playing a tiny instrument such as the oboe, and can't help but snort, "Okay, if I think about it more it is funny. Although I hope he knows we mean no harm."

"I'm sure he does. I mean, I always laugh at stuff, it's just how I am, and you're too nice to be mean. I mean, take the fact that you're worrying about how he feels from being teased. You're too nice to be mean."

I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not so I spend a moment in silence, my feelings flashing between offended and flattered. John, however, takes no notice, staring at the window, still smiling.

"And Lafayette," I say, remembering, "plays the french horn."

"Yeah," he says smiling, "although I still think Herc's is more funny."

We sit for a little bit longer, chuckling and thinking.

"Do you play any instruments?" I ask after a while.  
"Well," he responds, "I sing, which you know," I nod, "and I've played a tiny bit of piano, but I still wouldn't really say I _play_ it. I played the clarinet in Junior High but it didn't stick and I kinda sucked."

I laugh for a second at the thought of a young John playing the clarinet.

"Hey, hey," I say, finally getting to be the one with the devilish grin, "I want to see some pictures of you when you were younger."

"Why?" he says, faintly blushing, which just makes my grin more devilish.

"Because, of course, I want to further the experience of imagining you playing the clarinet in a cramped band room during your youth. And for that, I need to know what you looked like in said scenario at said age. Also, I just kind of want to know what you looked like when you were younger, out of curiosity and that kind of stuff."

He makes a slightly embarrassed, slightly exasperated noise, after which he says, "Fine. Although I completely expect to see any pictures you have of your younger self."

"Sure," I say, pretending to be innocent. I can see from the confusion on his face that he knows I'm pretending, but he doesn't know what I could be pretending about, so he lets it go. The truth is, since I lived in a smaller, more impoverished town when I was younger and what with the hurricane and all, I don't have a single picture of myself before I came to the US, and that wasn't so long ago so I was pretty similar looking to how I am now. So if, which is unlikely in my opinion, I am a terrible looking person and just don't know it, at least John will know what to expect. This, I guess, is a small, unimportant, but still kinda fun, upside to having the rough childhood that I had. It's nice that those exist

"Okay…" he says uncertainly, still suspicious. "Well, all of the pictures I have are probably either online or in a large leather-bound volume I call: 'My Terrifying Past' which either was snuck into my stuff without me knowing or is currently at my house, too far away for me to attempt to retrieve."

I chuckle at his description.

"Sounds good to me, although if you don't have the pictures and you ever visit your house in the near future, I will text your eyeballs out and force you to bring the pictures back."

"Oh, I doubt I'll be visiting _them_ any time soon."

I sense, because it's pretty obvious, a tension in his voice but, since he doesn't elaborate, don't say anything other than, "Okay."

"Okay," I say again, after a kind of awkward pause. "Well, let's go dig up pictures online, shall we?"

He rolls his eyes again but it seems like he's grateful for the distraction.

"Ugh."

I smile again, still feeling quite satisfied at how I'm finally the one with the plots and that kind of stuff. He goes over to his computer, on the floor and picks it up. Holding it with one hand, he pushes aside papers to clear a space for it on a desk and sets it down.

He sighs again, drawing the noise out much longer than is necessary.

"Do I have to do this _now?"_ He asks, drawing out the last word.

"Well-" His pouting intensifies. "I mean," I say, relenting, "You don't _have_ to. Do you just wanna hang out for a while?"

"Yeah," he answers, breaking into a smile, "sure."

"Don't doubt that I _will_ find those pictures though. Whatever the cost." I say, an exaggerated expression of accusation on my face.

He just raises his eyebrows at me. I keep my face looking ridiculous for longer, hoping to make him laugh. After about ten more seconds, his face finally breaks into a grin.

"Whatever," he says, doing a hair flip and turning his face away. I finally stop contorting my face and smile again at his silliness.

"So, what do you want to do?" he asks, turning back to me.

"Well…" I say, hoping I won't have to say it. It takes him a second but he catches on.

"Oh," he says, rolling his eyes for the umpteenth time. "Homework?"

I hope he's not too mad and nod at him apologetically. "Yeah."

"Eh, I guess that's fine. I just got a great book that I haven't had much time to read so I'll just do that, if it's okay."

"Yeah, that's totally fine. I'm glad _something_ good can come out of me forcing you to hang out with me while I do my endless loads of makeup work."

"Hey, I like hanging out with you. There is no forcing. Consent is key! But yeah, I actually think this will be quite a spot of fun." At the end of his sentence, he adopts a slight British accent and puts his thumb and pointer finger to his chin.

The smile on my face quickly disappears, my face going slack while my eyes open wide.

"What?" he asks, "You don't have to look _that_ surprised."

I continue to gape.

"Okay, okay." he starts muttering to himself. "I was just trying to expand my vocabulary. Or something. Gosh."

I don't stop gaping until he turns away, presumably to go find his book.

"I'm gonna sit on my bed today," I proclaim, after shaking away the amazement, "because I feel like it and however productive it makes me, I hate working on desks."

"Sounds good," I hear from John's general direction as I go to get my computer.

I sit down on my bed and start working, hearing him plop down on the other bed with his book. After a couple of minutes, I hear him shift. This happens twice more before he finally gives up on becoming comfortable and approaches my side of the room.  
"Alex," he says, yawning. "It's lonely over on that side." I have to hold in an amused smile and scoot over closer to the wall, patting the space beside me. He obligingly sits down close to me and starts reading again. We both sit in silence for a long while. I work pretty hard and efficiently, although there are times where I take a moment to remark on just how _very very cute_ John is, but I try to keep those to a minimum.

"Alex, I think I'm gonna take a nap." John startles me from my extreme concentration.

"Sounds good," I say, recovering from the shock. "When should I wake you up?"

He looks at his book, me, my computer, and thinks for a moment. "Maybe in forty-five minutes. Does that sound good?"

"Yup." I take note of the time so that I can wake him up in about forty-five minutes. After a moment of thought, I set an alarm on my phone in case I get too concentrated.

He flops onto his side, back still touching my side, and scoots a little bit closer so that he won't fall off of the bed. He sighs contentedly before closing his eyes and relaxing into the bed.

I don't really think to wonder about why he didn't go back to his bed. I guess I just assume that he was comfy and didn't want to be lonely again. Only after sitting like this for about fifteen minutes does it strike me how _coupley_ this seems. We're practically cuddling. And while that could be a friends thing, considering my feelings…

That's when I start to blush, my face heating up to the point that it almost hurts a little bit and I have to put my hands to my face for a second to calm down. I look through my fingers towards John and feel my face heat up again, with a renewed vigor. I lean against the wall, pressing my hot cheek against its cool surface and sighing. I rest my head on the wall for a moment, looking up at the ceiling, wondering what in the world I'm going to do.

 _Well,_ I think, _I guess that asking him out will give me_ some _kind of closure, although I still really, really don't want to do it. I'm such a scared… just a scared. I guess, in this case, I deserve to be._

My thoughts trail off and John shifts a little bit in the bed. I look over at him again, making sure he still looks comfortable. I finally tear my eyes away from him, and after looking at what I have done on my computer at this point I tell myself that when I wake him up I should have this project finished. Looking again at what I still have to do this weekend, I get back to work.

The alarm rings, startling me and John awake. I realize that I've fallen asleep on my computer, probably only napping for ten minutes, but still. I look over at my computer, my memory fuzzy, and am dismayed to find that I didn't quite finish my project, although I _am_ very close. I figure in another ten minutes or so (of course) I can finish it, finally, and then be able to cross out something on my extensive list of stuff that needs to be done this weekend.

Before I start working again, I turn to John. He's in the process of rubbing his eyes and mumbling sleepy nonsense.

"Hey," I say to him.

"Hey," he responds after a moment of thought, speaking groggily. "Is my nap done?" He sounds so forlorn over the end of his nap, making my mouth quirk into a smile again at his cuteness.

"Yeah, but I think I'm gonna work for ten more minutes or so. Do you want me to wake you up then?"

Without a response, he snuggles into me again, flopping over so that he's facing me this time, (which makes me blush, of course) and closes his barely open eyes.

I smile for a moment, which seems to happen a lot with him around, like a _very large_ lot, and force myself to get back to work.

I finish up in ten minutes, as expected, and go to wake up John, taking a long moment to admire his beautiful features yet again. I blush.

* * *

 **I'd like to give a more in depth thanks to all the readers this chapter, just because. Thank you all so much! (I know, really deep.) All of the people who read and support me are such good motivation and part (most) of why I'm still writing this is definitely all of the nice people who were all supportive and nice and just give me warm-fluffies inside. Thank you all so much!**


	20. What?

I have the cliche urge to tuck an errant curl of John's behind his ear as I go to nudge him to wake him up. When I finally regain complete control of my hand I nudge him with my hand to wake him up. After a couple of seconds, his eyes open slightly.

He makes a vague questioning sound and I answer with "Uhuh, time to wake up."

He sleepily sighs, opening his eyes again, a little more this time, and stretches out on the bed, yawning. After he's done, he looks at me through eyes bleary with sleep and smiles a lazy smile. I have time to think, that's the cutest thing I've ever seen anyone do, before I feel my face light on fire and my mind goes blank. I wonder why he makes me blush so much, although, after thinking for a very small amount of time, the answer to that is fairly obvious.

I practically blurt out a confession on the spot at his smile, but I remind myself that that's supposed to be a thing that I didn't want to do. I consider this for a moment before deciding that I'm right.

John sits up, drawing my attention back to him, rather than my feelings for him. He stretches and yawns again. For a moment I think I might see his eyes widen and he seems to lean away from me slightly, but it happens for short enough I can pretend it didn't happen.

He gets up quickly, suddenly completely awake, rubbing the back of his head and looking slightly guilty. Although it may seem suspicious, I don't notice anything amiss, being as dense as I am around John.

"Hey, Alex. What time is it?" he asks.

"Uh," I look at the clock, "6:43."

"Okay," he thinks for a moment. "Do you think we should go and see what Laf and Herc are doing? Did you get enough work done?"

"Yeah, we should. And yeah, I did. I should be fine on Monday if I do some tomorrow."

"Okay, cool. Give me a second to wake up more and we can go."

I nod, close my computer, and get up, yawning. The nap was actually really nice, although I hadn't realized I was tired. John and I walk out of the door and down the stairs, guessing that Lafayette and Hercules will probably be downstairs.

When I see them, I get exactly what John was talking about. I think at one point Laf may have been sitting on the edge of the chair, but by now he's mostly on Herc's lap and they're just sitting there, close together, intimately talking. I'm a little bit jealous. Even by "just friends" standards, it'd be nice to be that close to someone. Someone like a best friend.

I've never had that. I want it.

I unconsciously look over at John. He's smirking at his friends, and looks back at me after a second.

"Well," he whispers, his train of thought similar to mine, "now you know what I mean, right?"

I nod, "Yeah, I'm surprised I didn't notice it earlier. I mean, I kind of did, but it's super obvious now."

"It really is," his face softens, "I really hope that they realize it. Did you know that they both feel the same way, but still don't know? They've both confided in me."

"Why don't you give them a push or something?"

He hesitates for a moment, his face going black. When he speaks again, his voice has abruptly become colder. "I don't like the general concept of interfering in people's dating lives."

"Oh," I say, hoping he's not too mad, or at least at me. Not sure what to do, I just settle with, "But it really would be super awesome if they started dating."

"Yeah. Plus," his face regains its smile, this on wider than the soft one he had on before, "they'd be so cute together."

I let out a short burst of laughter. As I cover my mouth, Lafayette looks over at us. I guess he couldn't hear us before. Our whispering finally did some good after all. Lafayette looks extremely suspicious, which I suppose is fair considering that both John and I are doing nothing but staring at them and that I just laughed. Since neither John nor I go to move in any way, he does the two finger "I've got my eyes on you" thing and goes back to talking to Hercules, occasionally looking at us and pointing, not trying to hide that he's talking about us in the slightest.

After a couple more seconds spent looking at them (John making hearts with his hands and placing them inside of said hearts, me just giggling), John nudges me and says, in a whisper again, "I think we should leave them be. Agreed?"

"Agreed."

He considers for a second, finally leading me to the door and pushing me outside.

"So," I ask, after a moment, "do you have a plan? Or you just felt like walking around outside?"

"Well," he says, "both. My plan is for us to walk around the beautiful city of New York," he spins around his arms splayed at this, "and I'm gonna show you all the cool stuff that only the cool kids, like me," he takes a pair of sunglasses out of his pocket (apparently there only for this purpose) and puts them on, only to pull them off and look to the left at me, "know about."

"Oh," I say, a smile curling the edges of my lips, "that's nice."

"Yup," he drops the "cool kid" act and smiles at me, "and then we can go and get some coffee because I refuse to be the reason that Laf and Herc don't finally realize their feelings."

"Sounds nice."

He nods. "And now, let the tour begin."

* * *

We spend a long time walking through the city, taking in the sights. As we visit many "cool kid" places, John pulls me around and I trail behind him, awestruck. Eventually, after a long tour, we end up at a coffee shop I've never been to before. It seems to be more of a homey place, unlike many I've been to before in search of a place to work. It's nice.

After opening the doors and entering, John immediately goes up to the person at the counter and asks for something without hesitation. There are too many choices, almost all of them sounding good, for me to choose, so spend a long time pondering before finally asking John. Like he's been expecting this, he, without hesitation, orders one of the drinks for me.

When our drinks come, I know that I'm about to enter coffee heaven. While John picks his drink up and begins to walk toward a table, I just stare at my drink in awe. After a little bit, John comes back, picks up my drink, and takes it to the table his coffee is at as I trail behind, focused on the heaven in his hands. He puts my coffee across from his and I sit down, staring, entranced, at the masterpiece in front of me.

John raises his eyebrows at me, already drinking his delicious-looking drink.

"Gonna drink that?" he finally asks. "I can for you, if you want."

At the suggestion of my coffee being taken away from me, I quickly and protectively put my arms around the drink to shelter it. I look at it for one more second, before taking a tentative, yet extremely excited, sip.

I emit some noise between a moan and some kind of high pitched squeal as I taste the beautiful, blissful, above-all-expectations coffee. My face relaxes. Because of this drink, this lovely, amazing drink, I'm suddenly completely content.

John smiles smugly.

"I knew it."

I can't even muster a retort to his smugness, so I just nod slowly, the coffee still holding all of my attention.

His smile grows in smugness, against all odds. Who knew he could look so smug?

Too soon John is finished with his coffee and tells me I need to finish mine.

"But I can't finish. It has to go on forever. It's the only way I'll stay sane."

He laughs. "How about we come here next weekend and you can get this again."

"I can't wait a week!"

"Fine. Tomorrow?"

After much coercing, I finally grudgingly, still taking my time, finish my coffee. It hurts, but I manage to survive and we start on the walk home just as it starts getting darker.

It strikes me, sometime on the walk home, how much like a date this seems, the coffee having distracted me from the fact for a good amount of time. Is this how I'm going to be from now on? Seeing everything that John does, presumably platonically, as romance? I hope not. I shake the idea out of my head and we continue on the walk.

We reach the dorm and stop for a moment outside of the door, which reminds me how date-like this whole thing has been. I have a sudden thought, triggered by the first, being am I supposed to kiss him now?

Now, you may think that I would've immediately shot down the idea in my head, but, being the stupid person I am around John, I started to lean in towards him, my eyes fluttering closed. The next moment is a blur. I'm not sure how, but with my eyes closed, I am sure I feel his lips on mine, and after processing for a split-second, I am extremely confused. I immediately open my eyes and pull away from John. John does the same at almost the exact same moment.

We stare at each other, eyes wide, for the longest moment.

Suddenly, the door opens and Lafayette bursts out, breaking some of the shocked tension between us.  
"Hey," he starts, "I saw you two out here and you've been gone for a long time, without any notice, might I add. I am a worried mother. It's evil to make me worry like that." he says, muttering the last part under his breath. Voice returning to a normal volume, he finishes, "so I came out and got you because me and Herc have been oh so very lonely without you."

I nod dazedly.

I have forgotten about the coffee. I only have two things in my mind, two prominent questions. The first is did he see? while the other is simply what?

* * *

 **You know, people, on Sunday I was reading reviews and stuff and I just felt this overwhelming surge of happiness and warm bubbly feelings in my chest and then they spread to my arms and I had to flail around a bit (a lot).  
** **You made me flail. I'M SO PROUD!  
** **And writing this, I just- *flails around some more, while everyone who can see me stares at me strangely* THANK YOU SO MUCH I'M JUST A HAPPY PUDDLE OF EXPLODING FLAILINESS AND IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT. THANK YOU!  
** **Woah. That was intense. I got goosebumps… in my soul…  
** **And AquaArtistCat, the kiss is dedicated to you because I haven't been sure where I was going with this for a while, and I figured, why not? And because you complimented me AND IT WAS REALLY NICE AND I CAN'T TEACH YOU I'M SORRY.  
** **And guest, whoever you are, you're really nice to me and I'm flattered. I hope you liked the drama ;) (I'm really excited to see how people will react...)  
** **Okay, thanks for bearing with me through that, and I'll talk to the people that might be reading this in the next chapter. Bye!**


	21. He's New

**Okay, here's the story for why I'm publishing way early. It's pretty simple, actually. Guest (whoever you are) was being nice again (so nice) and said it was his/her birthday soon and I was like, "man, if only I'd actually published** ** _on_** **his/her birthday" and then I said, "you know what? I will." So then wrote a lot on Friday and am now publishing it (I'm actually not sure if this is the right day, but I tried) so HERE'S YOUR BIRTHDAY PRESENT FROM ME. I'm glad you're alive and you should stay that way. I realize you might not see this until Friday since you don't have an account and can't be notified, but just know that this chapter is for youuuuuu! (Update: I just saw your new review, I _really_ hope you see this.)  
And another thanks to ****_everyone else_** **in the world who's nice to me (there are a lot of you) I'm super grateful and happy and... yeah. Thanks!  
Without further adieu, I present to you the chapter.**

* * *

Lafayette looks confused. Since he doesn't seem to be able to tell why we're being so awkward and silent, I don't think he saw us kiss, which is a small relief..

"Well… Do you guys wanna go inside?"

Neither of us answer, still frozen, so he looks back and forth between us some more.

"Um…"

He turns suddenly, opening the door and dashing into the dorm. Seconds later, I see his pulling Hercules towards the door, whispering in his ear.

I hear only snippets of their conversation. "I came out… really, really awkward… what to do so I… need your help."

He opens the door again and comes out with Hercules.

"Hey." Hercules says. "It's getting late," At this blatantly false statement, Lafayette elbows him and Hercules mutters, "What? Something has to make them move, even if I have to lie." Turning back to us, he continues, "So if we want to do stuff early tomorrow, which I'm sure we do, we should go inside and go to bed." After turning again and whispering to Lafayette, he says, "And I have something to talk about with John so… Alex, we're switching rooms."

He looks for approval to Lafayette, who nods.

"Well," Lafayette says, "let's go."

Lafayette takes me by my arm while Herc does the same to John, and they pull us inside. Once we're in, they check to see if we're back to normal, and after seeing no improvement, they pull us up the stairs and into their respective rooms.

As I'm sure is happening in the other room, without waiting very long, Lafayette starts to interrogate me, unsuccessfully attempting to be subtle.

"So…" he starts, "What did you guys do while me and Herc were talking?"

I try to mumble something vague but no noise comes out of my mouth, so I just shake me head.

He looks at me questioningly before asking, "So you and John seem to be acting a little strange-" I shake my head again, interrupting him. I think he finally understands that I'm not going to talk because he leaves it and goes to retrieve everything that I need from John's room.

While he's gone, I lower myself onto Hercules' bed, my mind still numb. When it starts to work again, I realize just how nice the numbness was.

There are so many questions in my head, to many for any man to understand, let alone me in my hyper-confused state, but nonetheless, my brain wants answers.

I don't want to think about what happened.

 _We kissed._

I _don't_ want to think about what happened.

 _I kissed John Laurens._

I _really_ don't want to think about what happened.

 _John Laurens kissed me._

I _really, really_ don't want to think about what happened.

 _It was great._

I think about what happened.

 _Wow. We kissed. Or did I kiss? What if I just forced myself on the guy I like? And I liked. A lot. But that's not what matters. I have to- the memory of John's lips on mine flashes through my brain for a split-second, but it's enough to throw me off. What was it I have to do? I'm not sure, but I know it was important… Ugh, I can't remember. Why am I so distracted by John? I mean, yes, I know I like him but it shouldn't be able to throw me off so much. I have a crush, for goodness' sake. Unless… No. I actually shake my head at the thought, scared by it. That can't be it. I don't love John._

 _Right?_

* * *

I wake up the next morning to Lafayette snoring. I look over at his bed, remembering the nice time me and John had last night and the great coffee, and can't help but snort. Hercules is cuddled up next to him, and they look so coupley. John must be kinda lonely in his room. Wait, I'm in Lafayette's room?

And John's…

Oh.

That's right.

So… that happened.

What now?

Suddenly, I hear a loud beeping coming from Lafayette's phone and he jerks awake, Hercules almost falling off of the bed. Lafayette looks around quickly before seeing my awakeness and mumbling, "Can you check that?"

I nod and get out of bed to check his phone. The message that lights up the screen confuses me but I dutifully read it to Lafayette.

"It says… 'I'm coming back boi and you better be ready. Also, don't tell mads. I wanna surprise him.' It's from… Tommy Jeff?"

I can see Lafayette's eyes widen before he jerks up out of bed again, and this time Hercules does the same.

"What?" They both ask at the same time, worried looks on their faces.

I look back at them, confused and unsure of how to answer.

"Um…"

"Rhetorical question," Lafayette quickly explains. "But really though, what are we gonna do?"

"This is so like him," says Hercules. "I'll bet he's coming today or something."

The phone pings again.

"Well…" I say, hesitantly.

"What?" Asks Lafayette, wearily. "What is it this time?"

"He says… That he's coming today at seven…" I brace for their reactions.

"Nooooooooo," Hercules says, putting his head in his hands. "I jinxed it, didn't I? I shouldn't have said anything."

"Herc, I know this sucks," Lafayette starts, "but it's not gonna be as bad as you think."

"Laf! You know I hate him!"

"Yeah… I was hoping maybe you'd forgotten…"

Hercules picks his head up only to give Lafayette an unamused glare before sagging again.

He groans some more about how life's going to be terrible again and stuff like that for a while, while I get increasingly worried. I like my life here. What's about to happen?

"So…" I think to ask after a while. "What is Herc complaining about?"

"Who," Lafayette corrects, "and Thomas Jefferson. I have no idea why he hates him so much, but he does."

Hercules makes an indignant noise and a light-bulb goes off in my head.

"He's the biggest flirt and so obnoxious," Hercules complains. "So obnoxious."

"Wait," I say, "Is he the one who you used to share a room with, Laf?"

"Yeah, he did share a dorm with me," Laf responds. "But then he moved to France for "a little bit" and has been gone ever since."

I have an idea of why Hercules doesn't like him. A notorious flirt living in the same room as Lafayette.

"And who's 'Mads'?"

"Mads is James Madison-"

"I know him!"

"I thought you might. Yeah, he goes to Princeton too and he's about your level of ner-" he stops himself. "studiousness. He has a history with Thomas, so I'm a little bit worried."

I want to know what this "history" encompasses, but I resist the urge to ask, trying to respect his privacy.

* * *

The news gets to John sometime later that day and I wonder if this "flirt" thing was something that happened to him, too. When Lafayette tells John, I see no signs of distaste or disgust, but that just makes me even more worried. My dislike for Jefferson buds.

I find that the whole Jefferson ordeal is a great distraction from last night's kiss. Laf and Herc completely forget about the awkward behavior of John and me, and in the chaos, I manage to completely avoid being too close to John. Maybe this is good, but it's probably not. Now it's going to snowball to becoming an even bigger deal. I just know it.

I shoot a couple of pitying looks at "mads" (who came about an hour before Jefferson's schedules arrival. "He texted me and said he had a present for me at seven… so I came. Never thought I'd see you here, Hamilton." is what he said when I asked why he was here) throughout the hour as Lafayette and Madison tell me stories about Jefferson. I wonder how he'll feel when Jefferson shows up, unannounced, or at least unannounced to him. I still don't know their history, but that does nothing to change the fact that I'm worried for him. I mean, he helped me with homework stuff. He's nice. I could even say we're friends. But I resign myself to doing nothing, scared of how the legendary Jefferson would react.

True to his word, Jefferson shows up at seven o'clock on the dot, the prime time to make a dramatic entrance (which I expected he would from the stories I heard and which he most _definitely_ does) because everyone is hanging out in the common room, chatting. He bursts into the room as one of the fancy clocks that dings every hours, of course, dings. It's perfectly timed too, so that it seems as if the ding was to announce his arrival. No one who knows him and knew he was coming even seems surprised.

I immediately dislike him even more.

The first thing that happens as the door crashes open is that James (poor guy) stands up and walks out of the room. Considering myself his closest friend among the people in the dorm (although I could be wrong), I quickly follow him out into the hall. From Jefferson, I hear a confused, "What did I miss?" and have to sigh. He clearly doesn't understand James.

My dislike grows larger, and I still haven't even really met the guy.

"James…?" I tentatively ask when I catch up to him in the hallway. "How're you feeling?"

Without turning his face at all, James asks, "Did you know?"

I dread having to answer, but I force it out. "Yeah… sorry. I didn't know what to do. He told Lafayette that you couldn't know and I don't know him and I didn't want to mess something up so I just-"

"Stop."

I stop. He takes a couple of deep, calming breaths.

"Are you," I dare to ask, "mad at me?"

"No," he says, simply. "I'm mad at _him_."

"Oh."

When he finally turns his face towards me, I'm sad to see what look like the after-effects of tears.

"Is there anything I can-"

"No. Sorry. I just need to talk with him. I can't believe he leaves for so long and then doesn't even freaking _tell me_ \- can't give me _any notice_ \- when he-" He takes a deep breath. "Sorry. You don't want to hear about my problems."

"No," I say, quickly sitting down. "I do."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. Well in that case…"

He starts talking.

* * *

 **Well guest, I hoped you liked that, whenever you read this. And I hope everyone else did too. I haven't done much with characters besides the main four, so I felt like I should throw in a Jefferson, just to spice things up.  
Side note: I just realized that none of the words italicized in my document (a google doc) are italicized here... if anyone knows how to fix that, please tell me, and if not, forgive any parts you think should be italicized, considering they may well supposed to be.  
Reviews would, of course, be nice, and thanks for all the reviews and support I've already gotten. Thank you!**


	22. Relationships

"So Thomas-" James furrows his eyebrows. "Actually, you don't know our history, do you?" I shake my head. "Well, me and Thomas have been friends forever. We met in Junior High or something and I hated him." I think I might hear him mutter, "still do." and my heart breaks at the obviously false statement. "And, being so used to be loved by everybody, he set his sights on winning me over. He was persistently nice and funny and _perfect,_ and I couldn't help but fa-" he cuts himself off. "become friends with him. I tried to stay cautious, but something about him always makes my guard fall down and shatter into pieces.

"So, after his initial pursuit, I thought he might just walk right back out of my life, and I'm still not sure why he didn't, but for some reason, we stayed friends until in my first year away from him, in college, when he decided to go to France. Probably just for the heck of it, knowing him. And I didn't have any friends other than him- I mean, he'd been the one person who was genuinely interested in and nice to me pretty much in my whole life, aside from some of my family- so I was almost completely alone. Before I met him, it had been the same way, but I'd gotten used to his boisterous presence over the many years." At this point, I think that James has stopped talking specifically to _me_ and is more just talking his feelings out, but I'm glad to have helped him start to spill. Sometimes people just need to talk. "So I was really lonely, to say the least. I think I'd always taken his presence for granted until he was gone, and now I feel extremely cliche. But oh well. I started to miss him more, more than I ever had before, but I comforted myself with the fact that his time in France was 'only going to be for a semester'." He air-quotes the last part. "Spoiler alert: he didn't come back. I haven't seen him at all in my two years of college so far, and here he comes, without notice, back into my life, probably expecting me to fall at his feet or bake him a cake or something, and I'm just _so mad."_

He puts his head in his hands and stops talking, breathing deeply.

"Do you… Do you," it hurts to say it, but I think James needs to hear the answer so I force it out, "love him?"

He stops breathing completely.

"Yes," he whispers, tears in his voice, "But you have no idea how much I wish I didn't."

I almost start crying at that point, but I feel like I should be a steady part of his life right in this moment while he cries out his love.

"You would think," he continues to whisper, "that after two years I would've gotten over him. It wasn't like we maintained contact very much. Maybe towards the beginning, but he eventually stopped calling and emailing me, and I was too timid to reach out. But here I am, crying over Thomas freaking Jefferson." He laughs a wet, sad laugh, which quickly turns back into quiet crying. I'm scooting over to pat him on the back, when I hear a quiet "oh". I immediately turn around to see a surprised Thomas Jefferson watching James cry. In that moment, I really hate him for being such a bad friend. Hoping that James didn't hear the "oh" I shoot my strongest death glare at Thomas until he finally gets the drift and goes away.

James turns suddenly towards me, a desperate look in his eyes.

"Alex. Can you help me? Please? Just for a little bit. I just need-"

"Of course," I say, cutting him off. "James, we're friends, I'd love to help." _You need it,_ I add in my head.

"Well," he says, laughing weakly, "we'll see what you say once I tell you what I want."

* * *

After a shocked couple of minutes back in the common room, Thomas Jefferson scoots over to Lafayette.

"So… are they- James and Hamilton-" he pauses, his frown deepening. "Dating?"

Lafayette snorts.

"Not at all. Where'd you get that idea?" When he thinks about it though, it's not _that_ impossible. They both go to the same school, miles away from him, and it's not like he's talked to Alex about his love life.

As Thomas breaks into a relieved grin, Lafayette whispers, "I guess…" The smile swiftly falls clean off of Thomas's face.

"What?" He sounds genuinely scared.

"Well… Alex did say that he knew Madison but I didn't think that they could be _dating._ I guess it's... possible."

* * *

After a shocked couple of seconds, I haltingly say, "O-okay." I shake my head to clear up my doubt. I have to help him. "Yeah, I'll do that. But can I tell anyone other than him?"

"If you wouldn't, just for now… I just don't want someone to tell him, because he would definitely know that I- I," he halts. "He would know. I'm really sorry, but I _need_ to get over him."

"No, that's okay. I'll deal with it." I chuckle halfheartedly. "It can't be for that long, anyways, right?"

* * *

James says that we have to break the news before I leave for the week since it's the only thing that'll get Thomas to stop pestering him, and since it's already seven, he says that we should tell them once we're done talking and then hurry home before people could investigate them further.

I ask him questions about what's going to happen and how I should act for a while before he tells me we need to tell them. I take a deap breath.

"Okay."

* * *

"Hey, everyone," James starts, back in the common room. "Sorry for running out earlier. I had something in my eye that really hurt but I'm okay now. H-Alex and I are going to go back to the college together now, since it's getting kind of late. And, before we left, we wanted you all to be the first people to know that we are," he takes a deep breath, "officially dating."

Everyone is silent and still. After a while, people who don't know us too well start to tentatively walk up and congratulate us. I pretend to graciously receive their blessings while my close friends stay silent. Finally, Lafayette slowly gets up and comes over to me and James. He pats me on the back once, murmuring a vague congratulation. Hercules, after some time, joins Lafayette and does something similar. Although John and Jefferson still haven't come up, James announces that we should really leave and drags me out of the dorms. We get on a bus together and ride home in silence.

* * *

Time passes.

James says, the day after we start "dating", that we have to start acting like a real couple to fool Jefferson, so we start to do just that. It's almost like a real relationship, and the line separating it from one gets more blurred each time we kiss or talk late into the night about life, which happens more and more as the weeks pass. I start to wonder if it's possible I _do_ actually like James, legitimately, in a romantic way, but I firmly deny it. Eventually, though, it becomes too obvious to ignore.

I'm falling in love again.

It's not as if I stop liking John. No, and that fact just makes the weekend visits that much more confusing for me. But since James, who has started living with me because Jefferson occasionally comes to our college to visit, is a bigger presence in my life, he starts to overshadow John.

However, since my feelings for John were stronger in the beginning, my conflicting interest quickly starts to wear me down. I start spending less time with people in general and throw myself into piano and school. I get better grades, get better at piano, and slowly tear down everything I've built up with my friends. My relationships, _all_ of them, start to wilt and disappear.

I try to be okay with it. I would have once. But it's different now. _I'm_ different now. I can't just be alone anymore, or at least be happy being alone.

About this time, I start to sink under my normally accepted sadness level, and back into more depressed behavior. I don't even notice, too consumed in my life crumbling around me.

Because of all of this, I'm grateful when Thomas announces that he's going to go back to France in the next week. A little over a month into my relationship with James, and I'm ready for things to go back to how they were. I'm not sure, though… if that's even possible. I might have ruined things again.

Hoping for the best, I'm sadly disappointed when the weekend that Jefferson is going to leave, things take a dramatic turn.

On Saturday (Jefferson leaving on Sunday) John corners me as James and I are getting ready to go to the motel we've been staying at together for the weekends.

"Hey, Alex, I think there's still something in my room from a _long_ time ago, so you should come get it."

"Oh, okay-"

"I'll show you where it is."

I nod, unsure. I've managed to avoid John pretty well ever since James started pretending to date. This might be the first time since then that I've really been alone with John, and it makes me nervous.

He leads me to his room, and once I'm in he points in a general direction and tells me when to look for. I'm searching on the ground when I hear the door close.

I stand up sharply and look at him, worry all over my face.

"What-"

"I need to tell you. I don't know what's going to happen when Thomas leaves, but I know that something's going to, and it's going to be big, and I don't know what it is, so I need to tell you."

"What-"

He walks over quickly, cutting me off, and draws me into a passionate kiss.

I can't help but respond, pulling him into my body, rejoicing at his sudden closeness, after so much distance.

* * *

I don't know what to do afterwards, so I do nothing. I'm in the bathroom, brushing my teeth, worrying about life, when Jefferson corners me.

"I saw you."

"What-"

"I saw you kissing John."

 _Oh, crap._

"It's not-"

"No. I'm not going to listen to you. But you listen to me." He takes a deep breath. "I accepted your relationship with James because I thought that he loved you, and if he thinks you're better than me, then so be it. But I will _not_ accept you hurting him, cheating, and being a generally terrible boyfriend. You have to take care of him, and god help me, if you do not, I will stay here and I will take care of him for you."

"I'm-"

"You're nothing. You don't get to talk. I expect that he will know by tomorrow, at which point I will talk to him, and if he doesn't, I'm staying, and you get no more James, no matter how amazing he is. And you probably won't anyways, considering the fact that you _cheated on him._ "

But I didn't even, really. Although I've been growing attached, he's shown no indication of having any romantic interest in me. We're not even really dating.

I can't help but think, _this is all your fault._

"Now go. Tell him. He needs to know. You will tell him, and you will fix his life, and _I will hold you to that. Do you understand?"_

I nod mutely, terrified.

 _WHAT?_

* * *

 **Aha! I've created a whole new thing of drama, enough to overshadow the kiss and now NO ONE WILL KNOW WHAT'S GONNA HAPPEN TO LAMS EXCEP' FO' ME. Actually that's a lie; I don't even know what's going to happen.  
** **By the way, has anyone been following Sons of Libertea? If not, go read it. You'll like it, almost certainly (I mean, maybe you won't but at least read a little bit). If so, PLEASE PM ME ABOUT THE NEWEST CHAPTER I NEED TO TALK TO SOMEONE, PREFERABLY IN ALL CAPS. ARGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGG *CRIES FOREVER* Really though. I cried. And now I have to wait TWO WEEKS BLURGLLLLL *grumbles*  
** … **So yeah.  
** **And sorry for posting so late but school just started and IT'S HECTIC, to say the least. I hope the drama'll make up for it. You guys are the greatest! Thanks for reading! Byeeeeeee!**


	23. Letters

**No! NO! DO NOT SHIP THEM THAT WAS NOT WHAT I INTENDED!**  
 **Now that that's out of the way, some announcements:** **Sorry for posting late. School. I didn't have time to do** _ **anything**_ **yesterday, much less finish this. Anyways, hope you forgive me, and I'm still trying to post on Fridays, albeit late in the day.** **Someone (wiw, I believe) asked about Sons of Libertea: I left you a review since I don't know how links work in fics so go check that out.** **APPARENTLY (I type after reviewing) you can't get rid of reviews and mine went wonky, so copy the part I had on the review and type in archiveofourown . org before it (without the spaces, obviously) and sorry for all the trouble but I'm still figuring this site out… I hope I helped.  
** **Here, I present to you still not really lams happening but I swear it's coming soon. Enjoy!**

* * *

I sit in my bed, conscious of James's presence it the bed next to mine at the hotel that night, supremely confused.

 _What just happened?_

The other terrible thing (on top of everything that has happened this night) is that, once Jefferson leaves, I'm scheduled to move into his vacant spot in John's room because school ended in the last week. It makes my blood boil to think John and him alone in a room, but then I can't really say that John is "mine" in any way. Back to the point, John's now confessed to me and I'm not on that good of terms with anyone in the dorm anymore, or anyone at all really, so it's going to be... awkward, to say the least.

And I have no idea what's going to come of my and Madison's fake relationship, now that it seems so real, at least to me.

When did my life get so crazy?

I don't know what to do, or who to talk to, so I settle for getting me and James some food. When I bring it back to the hotel, he's sitting on a bed, reading a random textbook.

"Hey, I got food."

He looks up, unsurprised.

"Okay. One sec."

I set the stuff up on the smallish desk and sit down to wait. After a little bit, he joins me, sitting on a chair I pulled over earlier.

"So, how's your day been?" He asks.

"Good-" A very random thought occurs to me, and I try to be flippant about it, dismissing it and deciding there's no point to ask James, but he sees it on my face.

"What?"

I hesitate. Should I tell him? I guess there isn't any reason not to, I mean, it's obviously nothing. Nothing at all.

"This might sound kind of strange…" he raises his eyebrows, smiling a confused smile. "Are you- Have you- Did-" I take a deep breath. "Sorry. The weird thought just occurred to me that maybe this whole time you've been using me as some kind of- some kind of way to get over Jefferson, but I'm sure that's not true." I smile confidently at him, chuckling. At his face, I'm unable to continue.

"James-"

"I'm sorry."

 _"James-"_

"I'm sorry. But..."

"You must be kidding." He silently shakes his head, his eyes downcast. "Well," I start, for lack of something else to say, "did it… work?"

He's silent for a long moment. I barely see it, but a minute shake of his head changes my world.

I stand up suddenly.

"Alex-"

"I'm sorry, I need to go somewhere else for a while. I'll be back later, and please at least try to be asleep when that happens. I need to calm down before I can really talk. Just- please."

He nods once, the concern in his eyes hurting me more than anything he's said so far has. I guess he really was my friend.

I walk out of the room and quietly close the door. I can't stay near him anymore, so I go outside and start to walk briskly in a random direction, aimless.

When did my life get so crazy?

I decide, then and there, that I need to fix everything. Everything.

But how?

I spend the rest of my walk thinking of how I can do anything. F **inally, I decide I should get some sleep, considering I've thought of absolutely nothing, and walk back to the hotel.**

* * *

I wake up with a start from the chair I decided to sleep in, an idea forming in my head. Looking at the clock over James's head, I see that it's only four in the morning, but I don't particularly care. I get out of bed, taking care not to wake James in the next bed. We used to sleep in the same bed often enough, for a reason previously unknown to me, but there's no chance that that would be happening tonight. I get up and go to the single desk in the room, taking out my computer. After a minute with it out, I close it and put it away. I'm not sure if there's going to be any paper in the hotel room, but I always carry a notebook around with me, so I get that out, tearing a sheet of paper out to use.

I poise my pencil above the paper for a moment, wondering what I should write first. I have four letters to write, but I think I know which one...

* * *

 **Dear John,**

 **I want to come clean. Here's everything that has happened since… well, here:**

 **We kissed. More on that later. Afterwards, Jefferson decided to burst into our lives, which I kind of hate him for, because he pretty much ruined all the nice stuff we had going on, although I'm not trying to pass the blame onto him. It was, of course, mostly my fault.**

 **But James loved him so much, and still does, and when Jefferson just came unannounced like that, it broke his heart. As his self-proclaimed friend, I felt the need to help, as many would. He proposed something kind of… unconventional, we'll say, which was that we pretend to date until Jefferson left, so that Jefferson would stop forcing friendship on James, while James wanted much more. I found out (just Saturday night, in fact) that James had really been using me, for lack of better words, to get over Jefferson, although that definitely didn't work. I don't think I'm too mad at him, but it was kind of terrible when I found out, so I may or may not have stormed out of our apartment.**

 **So that's what's been happening, and I won't see you for a while, because I'm honestly terrified at people's reactions, but feel free to email or text me or whatever.**

 **P.s. Here's the more on that kiss: I feel the same way, and the kiss was great. Well, kisses. I do know I love you, but over the last month I might have started falling for James too, and I'm kind of a mess right now. Anyways, just know that I'm sure that after this whole thing I've planned, I'd love to go on a date with you, and I hope you feel the same way.**

 **Thanks for reading this. I really hope you don't hate me.**

 **A. Ham**

* * *

I sigh, satisfied with my first letter. I'm pretty sure it got my feelings across.

I start on the next.

* * *

 **Dear Thomas,**

 **I'd like you to know that you've kind of ruined my life before I say anything else. To explain that, I have to go into the "anything else".**

 **So you like James, as far as I can tell, and I suggest you stop being such a flirt or denying it or whatever and just tell him straight out. I have one big reason, but besides that, you're hurting him and any chances you have with him by being so inconsiderate, and he's in denial so he really won't acknowledge your feelings until you tell him directly.**

 **The big reason is that he loves you. There, I said it, and he'll hate me, but I really think you two should hurry up and start dating, because it would make everyone a _lot_ happier.**

 **You might think this makes no sense, coming from his boyfriend. I'd have to agree, although I think that more just because there's not much sense being made in my life right now.**

 **Now I guess I should probably tell you the story, but I'm tired and don't care enough about you to write that so just ask**

I pause. I was going to tell him to ask John but now that I think about it, I don't want to encourage any interaction between the two, especially since they both might hate me now. I erase the last sentence.

 **I guess I'll tell you the story.**

 **Pretty much, since I'm way too tired to tell you in detail, you broke James's heart by coming back so suddenly and not telling you, and he wanted me to pretend to date him to fool you so that you'd stop kind-of-hitting-on-him while doing the same to other people. He wanted more, and you never gave him that, and yet you gave him just enough that the want didn't go away, and he really wanted it to.**

 **So, being the good friend I am, I agreed to date him, but it got out of hand, and I grew attached, and here we are. And I did _not_ cheat on him, because we weren't ever really dating.**

 **But I've been "dating" James for long enough that some feeling stronger than just attachment have definitely developed, so I hope you go and steal him away from me (I really do have feelings for him, but he doesn't feel the same, and I want to be with John without a constant nagging want.)**

 **P.s. Back off of John. As I said, I want to be with him. Sure, maybe you're not really hitting on him, but I like him, and you like James anyways, so just leave him alone please.**

 **A. Ham**

* * *

Since I don't really have it in my to care what Thomas thinks at all, that letter was easy. The next one won't be so similar.

* * *

 **Dear James,**

 **As you may have noticed, I am no longer here, and, in place of me, I gave you this letter. You might be worried what I'm going to say- I would be- but I don't think that you really need to be.**

 **As you also may have noticed, yesterday kind of hurt. Scratch that, it really hurt. I agreed to "date" you because I was trying to be a helpful friend, and then you go and use me and it doesn't even work and- anyways, I didn't want to deal with this so I wrote some letters.**

 **I don't really want to hurt you, despite what it might seem like, or what I might feel right now, so I left the fate of the letters up to you. Before I tell you about those, I would just like to tell you that over the course of this last month or so, I've begin to kind of like you, romantically. Spending so much time in your presence without having to worry about breaking up or if you like me somehow grew on me, and that's part of why yesterday hurt much. Anyways, I thought you should know that and also that I don't intent to pursue a romantic relationship. I actually really liked John before the whole fiasco, and I still do, so I'm gonna try to fix that relationship and ask him out. Wish me luck.**

 **And now back to the letters: I wrote four, including this one. One to John, one to Thomas, one to Hercules and Lafayette, and this one- to you.**

 **They all tell the assorted people what all happened and if you don't want them to know, then you don't have to deliver them. It might seem like I'm just running away from having to deliver them myself (and I kind of am) but I really do want you to have control of what happens for here on out.**

 **If you want to know what I want (which you might not), I really want John to get his letter, and Laf and Herc would be nice too. The one to Thomas I don't really care about, although I think it's in _your_ best interest to deliver it.**

 **So make the choice, and if you'd text me or something so that I know what you chose, that would be nice too.**

 **I hope we can still be friends?**

 **A. Ham**

* * *

The next letter is going to be the hardest.

With John, I could blame my distance on the whole thing where I was dating someone else, but I can't blame anyone or anything but myself for ruining my biggest friendship.

I decide that I'm going to make it less serious and more humorous, simply because I can't bear to deal with the how I possibly permanently messed up such a good thing.

* * *

 **Dear Hercules and Lafayette,**

 **Hey… remember when we were friends? And then I was dating James out of the blue and I kind of became distant and then we weren't such good friends anymore?**

 **Well, do I have a story for you…**

 **Sorry, this is really hard.**

 **Story time!**

 **One day, me and John went out to leave you two some privacy**

I stop. I don't really think it's my place to tease them anymore.

 **One day, me and John went out to get coffee. Somehow, we ended up kissing (that was the awkward you saw), and then Jefferson burst into our lives and James was heartbroken and he asked me to pretend to date him so that Jefferson would give it up, and I agreed.**

 **I was trying to be a good friend.**

 **Clearly I need to work on that.**

 **Me and James kind of went off so that Jefferson wouldn't notice anything amiss, but I wasn't expecting it to be for so long, and I ended up, as you know, falling out of our friendship.**

 **I do still want to be friends.**

 **I hope we can be friends.**

 **I realize that I really messed up, and I don't have much of an excuse except for the hecticness of my recent life. I have to agree with you, Herc, that I don't much like Jefferson at this point.**

 **But it wasn't his fault, it was mine.**

 **So here I am, trying to clean everything up, but I'm really not sure how to and I'd absolutely love it if you two would consider being on my side, at least until everything is more sorted out.**

 **If you don't want to be, that's okay, I can deal with it on my own and it's not at all your fault or problem, but I'd appreciate help if you wanted to give it.**

 **Anyways, sorry for not being there to bear the results of my letters, but I'm not really up for that, so I ran away.**

 **Sorry.**

 **If you want me to come back or think I should or something, just text me.**

 **Thanks for reading.**

 **A. Ham**

* * *

I distantly, through the haze in my mind, see a tear fall onto the page.

* * *

 **Thanks for the reviews and stuff (long reviews are the best, summarization in my enemy, go write your heart out) and thanks for reading!**


	24. Response

**Hello all! I have an important message:  
School is way too demanding for me to regularly publish on Fridays. I recently decided that doing two instruments, a sport, and all of the honors classes and stuff of the like that I can was not a very intelligent choice. I was trying to finish this late last night and I fell asleep for a couple of seconds once or twice, so that wasn't good.  
Since I want to resume being a predictable, stable publisher, I've decided to switch to Sundays. It should work, and that'll start next week. Sorry for the late publishing ****_again._**

* * *

I wait for a day, renting a hotel back in New Jersey and hoping that James will stay away.

I hear nothing.

Another day of waiting.

Nothing.

I'm almost tempted to go back, just to see what's happening. Maybe people's possible wrath would be worth it to actually know what's happening. It occurs to me that maybe Madison didn't deliver the letters at all and _nothing_ has happened.

I don't even know if Jefferson went back to France or not.

The suspicion is killing me.

I get bored very quickly of waiting. I may be a coward, but I'm not a coward made to wait. I'm always doing stuff, no matter whether I agree to or not. It doesn't matter how stupid what I'm doing is, either.

So I decide to do something. It's the obvious solution for me.

What, though? That seems to be a constant question in my life as of late.

Finally, after I've waited for days, I can't stand staying in New Jersey, clueless. While I would love to actually have a plan, that's not an option anymore, so I pretty much end up driving off into the distance, as if I'm in some kind of ridiculous movie.

Halfway there, I decide it's about time to formulate _something_ to do when I arrive. Just thinking about people's possible reactions… John's especially. I have no idea what's going to happen. It makes me so- nervous, really. _Really, really_ nervous.. I don't want to deal with that.

Out of all the artists I like, I choose the most distracting one and put on some music, very, very loud. As loud as I can bear. It does a good job at drowning out my thoughts, and I lose myself listening to music for the rest of the drive.

I find myself, many songs later, passing by the coffee shop that me and John went to together the night we kissed. I'm close. Very close.

Too close.

I park somewhere, my mind a blurry haze. And a nervous one, too. Very nervous. The nerves blur out everything else, and I'm suddenly at the dorm door. Against all odds, I pass the bounds that should probably exist concerning nervousness. I'm so out of it that I don't even notice someone opening the door till it's hitting me in the side.

"Oh, crap. Sorry! I didn't see you," I hear, distantly. I recognize the voice, but I'm not sure from where. I feel, strangely, that the voice is associated with pie…

I still don't figure it out.

"Are you okay?" I think this must be when he finally registers my face. "Wait… Hamilton?"

Hearing my name startles me into finally doing something, which turns out to just be opening my eyes really wide and gawking after I look up.

The pie finally clicks into place.

"Burr?"

"Yeah… What are you doing here? You've caused quite a ruckus in the dorm, and I got the impression you weren't coming back."

"You did? So they _do_ know."

"Well of course. You had to know that Jefferson would tell everyone he could that you cheated on James. He really loves James. I mean, everything's calmed down, but it's still pretty tense in there, especially between Laurens and Jefferson, for whatever reason. I'm surprised you came back."

"Jefferson stayed?" I cheated on James? I thought that…

He looks at me strangely. "Yeah," he pauses, "You really don't know anything, huh? I'm kind of hesitant to fill you in. They might all hate me if I do."

"Please?" I plead, suddenly desperate. "I'll buy you coffee? Anything? I need to know."

"Well," I can almost see him deliberating. It suddenly occurs to me that, considering his personality, he's more likely playing with me. "Well, I _was_ going out for coffee anyways. Sure, let's do it."

"Thank you so much. Seriously. Very much. Thank you."

"Yeah, yeah. We'll see if you still want to thank me after I've actually told you the story."

I smile at him a little bit, nervously. "We'll see."

* * *

"You said that you wrote letters? I don't think that anyone got them… as far as I know. Honestly, you would be better off talking to someone else. I'm not really very involved in it all."

"Someone else? And who, exactly, do you think would be willing to talk to me?"

"Well…" He pauses, thinking of an excuse. "Hey, I'm talking to you, you should be nice to me." I raise my eyebrows. "Okay, back to the story that I will valiantly attempt to piece together. Well- actually, first, did you really cheat on Madison?"  
I'd forgotten that Burr didn't know that whole story. Or any of it, really.

"Long story. If you manage to find and deliver those letters, you can read them and it'll be explained. Although I'd rather just tell you, if that time ever comes."

He hesitates. "I want to pry, but I won't. You're welcome. So, whatever long story that happened on Saturday happened, on Saturday, obviously, and then it was Sunday. Jefferson was supposed to leave but since you didn't answer his many attempts to contact you, he canceled his flight without a second thought. James was also avoiding talking to anyone until that night.

He came in and told everyone that you'd 'run away'. It only confirmed the suspicion that you'd cheated, and it was soon common knowledge that you and Laurens had kissed, and that's when their fighting started. Their first big one was just yesterday, but somehow they're've already been five more since then.

"The first one was basically a blaming game. I'm not sure what happened in the ones after that because I tried to stealthily leave before they escalated. Pretty much, everyone's just arguing about you. And Madison has shown no sign of giving redeeming letters to anyone."

"Oh."

"Is there anything else you want to know, in case I can tell you?"

"Has anyone been acting at all strange since James came back?"

"Well," Burr pauses, thinking, "Jefferson, but he always acts like a love-sick puppy around Madison. Other than that, I didn't notice anything, although something could've slipped past my intensely amazing powers of observation."

"Huh, well I guess Madison didn't send the letters, like you said."

"Do you want my honest opinion?"

I'm not sure if I really do, but I nod regardless.

"I think you and Laurens should just hurry up and get together, and so should Jefferson and Madison. It would make everything so much easier on us all."

I have to agree.

He doesn't say anything more for a moment.

"Well, unless you can think of something else, I think that's about as helpful as I can be."

"Yeah… Hey, if I went back to the dorm with you, and tried to talk to people, would you stop them from hurting me?"

"Depends."

"Okay," I think for a moment, "Let's go."

* * *

As I stand nervously outside of the door, I see, through the window, James handing Hercules and Lafayette a letter as they sit together on the couch. Letters aren't very common these days, and nothing makes it seem as if it couldn't be... I watch in scared surprise and increasing horror as their faces both show extreme surprise, and what they must be about to read registers through my still blurry cloud of haze inhabiting my brain.

Burr notices what's happening too and shoots me a questioning glance. I don't make any move to respond, frozen in place.

I watch their faces as they read on. At multiple points, I see them stop reading to say something into the other's ear. It kills me that I have no idea what they're saying.  
Seeing my face, Burr says, "So I assume the probably wouldn't be the best time to go inside, would it?"

I still can't respond.

I feel myself being pushed into a suddenly open door. By who, I can make a good guess. But _why,_ I have no idea.

"Wh-" I start before cutting myself off, seeing the shocked faces of everyone in the room.

A very long beat of silence engulfs the room.

"You guys, what?" I hear from upstairs, the voice approaching, "This letter, it- Laf, Herc, you got one too, righ-" John emerges from the stairwell.

There's another long, even more awkward pause of silence.

"What the heck?! _You?"_ He pauses. _"Really?!_ "

* * *

 **I'm sorry for the short chapter too, but hopefully you don't hate me and I can introduce you to the distracting music. It's pretty much the Caravan Palace radio on Pandora, or if you don't use that, just listen to Caravan Palace, some 11 Acorn Lane, Caro Emerald, and Parov Stelar. There's other stuff, but it's mostly that. You should do it. For me.**  
 **Electric Swing, anyone?  
Thanks for reading!**


	25. Others' Love

**I did it! I published a chapter relatively on time! I'm so proud!  
I will say though, that this week has been hard for me with a pet death (my cat, Samous) in my family, so I'm... Well, I guess I just wanted y'all to know some more stuff about me.  
Thanks for reading in advance!**

* * *

After _another_ moment of silence in which I stare at John, searching his eyes for an answer, he suddenly begins to approach me. Confused, I lean back very slightly. I'm more than a little bit scared.

"W-what?" I stutter out nervously.

He looks almost predatory, stalking over to me, his eyes burning into my own. I lean more and more back until I'm in danger of falling backwards, and even then, I try to lean more. Somehow still balancing, I start to shake a little bit as he gets closer, closer.

And then he's suddenly right in front of me, and he does the thing I least expected.

He kisses me.

A possesive, forceful, passionate kiss that makes me forget to breathe for a long moment, until I'm forced to break the kiss and take a needed breath, forgetting about my nose altogether.

As we stare into each other's eyes, his fiery, full of passion, and mine displaying who knows what, I hear someone clear their throat loudly.

"Well that's nice and all… but maybe save it for sometime when not every single person living in this dorm is watching?" I can tell it's Jefferson speaking from his voice, and from his general obnoxiousness.

I hear, my eyes unable to look away from John, someone, presumably Jefferson, being elbowed hard.

Whoever elbowed him says, "shut up," under their breath.

"Wh-" Jefferson starts, but another hard nudge shuts him up with a grunt.

The interruptions stopped, my brain focuses back onto John's beautiful face, taking in all his glorious details. He does the same.

We're finally forced to stop by all of Lafayette's moderately quiet (which well technically true, isn't really. Lafayette's moderately quiet is almost yelling) catcalls. We go back to our day like normal, although I spend much more time staring longingly at him and can only hope he's doing the same.

* * *

The next day, I talk to Laf and Herc, telling them about what happened with James and asking them to deal with me for a little bit longer while everything's still kind of confusing. They agree more readily than I expected. I can't stop myself from hugging them emotionally, murmuring thanks again and again.

"Hey, it's okay Alex. Sure, it's mostly your fault," Laf says, grinning, "but it might've been better of us to ask about how you were doing when you started to act strangely."

I smile again, so widely, and laugh as he winks. I hug them both tightly again, so thankful for the great friendship these people I've neglected so much have offered.

* * *

After the kiss, I assume that John and I are dating. I mean, we've both proclaimed our love already. I don't consider the possibility that we _aren't_ until, a week later, when John and I are introducing ourselves to a random person at a party.

"Yeah, for sure. So I'm Alexander and this is my-"

"I'm John," he says, innocently, smiling. The beginnings of doubt start to blossom inside of me.

The rest of the party passes and nothing happens, but I notice that he never let's me introduce his as my boyfriend. That, added with the fact that we haven't kissed at all since the first day, makes me uncertain and scared about what our relationship really is at this point.

That night I have to ask him. I've been staying in his room (it _really_ seems like we're dating) and at the moment, as we often do, we're laying next to each other, talking.

"Yeah, and I still think he should've just gone for it. If he had, he wouldn't have ended up with that terrible year. Sure, it's better now, but I think he should've."

"Yeah…" I start, dreading what I'm about to ask him. "Hey, John?"

"Hm?"  
"Do you- Are we…"

He props himself up on his elbows and looks at me, sensing this is going to be important.

"What is it?"  
"Are- are we dating? Because I-" I cut myself off, trying not to further embarrass myself.

"Alex," I hate the slight pity I hear in his voice, "I- I don't know if I can really do that… yet… I just- We could've been fine. We kissed, remember. After that, I'm sure we would have dated eventually. But then, with James, and it got kind of ridiculous. I don't know if I want to have to deal with something like that, in case it happens again. I was kind of thinking- which I should have told you a week ago if I'm completely honest- that maybe we could… Go back to being friends? For a little bit, at least, until I'm sure everything has calmed down and have sorted out my feelings some more? It's just…"

I'm silent for a moment before forcing out an, "Oh."

My possible relationship with James was ruined by John. Now my relationship with John had been ruined by James. It's like a love triangle, but sadder and more weighted against me. Really, though, my life has been ridiculously dramatic. I recognised that myself at one point. I can almost understand what John means. I think I could if how much I want to date him didn't trump everything else in my brain.

"Oh," I say again. "Well. I," I take a deep breath. "Okay. If that's what you want, okay."

He smiles in a relieved way.

"But," I start, "you should know, for the record, that I do still like you in a romantic way. And that won't stop being true anytime soon."  
"Yeah, and that might be true for me too," he replies, "I'm just not sure quite yet. Hey, thanks for not pitching a fit. It's nice to have your opinions and wants respected."

"Yeah." As an afterthought, I add "You're welcome."

I smile at him, trying to hide the sadness seeping into my heart through the pinpricks created by his declaration.

"Well, do you wanna go downstairs and cheer on Laf and Herc?"

"Yes, please. I can't believe they're still not dating."

And then, when we arrive at the bottom of the stairs, I see something that lifts up my inwardly dreary mood. John hasn't noticed yet, so I elbow him softly and whisper, "look."

As his head turns, I see his eyes widen and his mouth curl into a disbelieving smile. He looks back at me, delightedly.

"Do you see what I see?" he whispers. "This is so cute. They better be dating, finally. I swear, if they aren't-" he shakes his head, still smiling.

On a long couch, Lafayette is curled up in Hercules arms, facing him. They're practically kissing. I bet they would be if they weren't asleep.

As we watch, Lafayette shifts, resting his forehead on Hercules'. Their noses are even touching.

"They are the most oblivious people, I swear," I say.

"Or maybe," he responds, "they've _finally_ given into their feelings. Maybe we hoped hard enough that it became a reality."

"If so, we're the best. They don't deserve us."

"Well, you know, I already knew _I_ was the best, but feel free to join me up here."

I chuckle, smiling sideways at his cheeky face. Laf and Herc's obvious love makes me a little bit sad for what I can't have, but my happiness for them outweighs it.

I nudge John again after a moment, framing them in a heart made of my fingers. He giggles and quickly does the same. We stand like that for a moment, our shoulders touching slightly, as I fall more in love with John. It's easier to forget about _my_ love when I immerse myself in other people's, which is exactly what I decide to do.

That night, trying to be friendly with Jefferson as I have been, I ask him how he and James are doing, wondering what happened to the couple that accidentally ruined my life.

"Oh," he says, surprised I asked, "we're doing well. Do you mean, like… As a couple?" I nod. "Oh, yeah. We're doing well in that way too." A smile starts to sneak onto his face. "When I read your letter, I finally got up the nerve to tell him. I don't know why, but telling him has always intimidated me. Actually no, not for some reason, it was because he's the person most important to me, out of anyone, and I didn't want to potentially ruin our relationship. Although," he says, laughing weakly, "I did almost end up doing just that, apparently, just be being as close to normal as I could around him. Kind of funny.

"Anyways, I told him my feelings and it turned out he felt the same way!" He's absolutely beaming at this point. "I know you told me that he did, but I had a hard time believing it." I laugh at his surprise at something so obvious, and he smiles back at me. "After we'd established that we wanted to try dating, it was terrible. Or rather, I was terrible. He's perfect. I had no idea what to do, now that he wouldn't shy away from any teasing touches and small gestures. I don't have any experience dating people who really matter to me, so everything's been new. It's still pretty awkward but we got through the initial barrier so I think everything's gonna be good. Of course not quite smooth sailing, which isn't really what I want anyways, but good nonetheless."

I'm really happy for him, and if I feel a small sharp stab of loss, I ignore it.

"Aw, I'm so happy for you two."

Everyone else's romantic success continues to wear at me, while still offering some small reprieve from my own sad romantic life.

"That's great!"


	26. A Chance

**Okay, for some reason I loved writing this chapter. I think it's the best I've written in a while (although I didn't proofread it very well because I wanted to publish it before I had to leave for something, so forgive any errors, please). Enjoy!**

* * *

I want some time to myself, to think. I'm not sure exactly how I feel about everything, and the uncertainty annoys me. It kind of hurts that, when I leave, I don't have to tell anyone I'm leaving, because I don't really think they care.

Because of this, I'm already feeling kind of forlorn as I begin my walk, and because I'm trying to figure myself, I'm destined to become more so.

 _So, John doesn't like me. Or he does. He doesn't know. And neither do I._

 _It's just… I thought we had something. No, we did. We did, he even said so. I wonder… what would have happened if we'd let our relationship progress after the kiss?_

I go back to the moment of the kiss in my mind.

 _I can almost imagine it…_

* * *

Lafayette looked at the two of us, took in how awkward we were, and called Hercules over. They took us to separate rooms and tried to pry what had happened out of us, with no luck.

Let's say that night, that maybe Laf had told me how in love with James Jefferson was.

After the kiss, I tried to avoid John, down-turning my head and blushing whenever I had to talk to him. He didn't, though. He might've even tried to seek me out, although that could've been wishful thinking. Finally, being John, one day, he pulled me aside.

"Alex," he says, fixing my shoulders so that I'm forced to face him.

My eyes having been fixed onto his, I break and avert my gaze.

"What?" I whisper meekly. "What is it?"

"Alex," he says again, his voice taking on a pleading tone. "You know."

He's right, I do.

"I'm sorry, okay. I didn't mean to and I shouldn't have. Happy?"  
He looks at me like something's wrong in my head.

"What? No! That's not what I meant, Alex," he seems exasperated. "Do I really have to say it? Well, I guess I tried to prepare…" he takes a deep breath. "Alex, I-" he pauses again, and his voice turns hard as he forces out whatever he's trying to say. "I like you. Would you like to go on a date sometime?"

I look up at his face, dazed.

"If that's a legitimate question, of course. Are you stupid?"

He whacks me on the arm, smiling brilliantly.

* * *

I emerge from my daydream, finding that I've walked around and somehow arrived where I can see the piano where I first met Lafayette, leading to everything else, changing my life.

It's a special piano.

Now I don't make up music often, but I'm suddenly struck with the urge to play a melody I always hear in my head when my life isn't going too well. I've never tried to play it on a piano, because that seems like recognising my sadness too much, but I want to now. I really want to.  
Struck with the strongest resolve I've felt in a while, I sit on the piano determinedly. I stare down the piano, finding that I'm scared of playing it. But I want to, I really want to now. I try to reason to myself that it's just a piano- because it is- and that what I'm going to play is just like anything else, except that it isn't. A good amount of my life hasn't gone too well, and I know the song better than I've noticed before. It might've been playing for the last week or so without me noticing at all, and it's been changing too. Getting better, conveying what I'm feeling more accurately, hitting me harder when I hear it again in my head. So it's not just like anything else, and that's exactly why I need to play it, I tell myself. It needs to come out. You know it does. I do.

I think out the first notes in my head, at least wanting the first measure to sound good before I have to start working things out. Music doesn't transfer perfectly from a tune in your head to a two-handed piano masterpiece, after all.

I work as far as I can in my head, and hesitantly play the first notes, hoping they sound good.  
I cringe. They don't, of course. At least, they don't sound like the song I have in my mind, which is the only thing that could sound good to me at this point.

I try again, slowly correcting every note till I have the first few measure worked out. After doing this for a couple of lines done, it occurs to me that I should write it down so that I don't have to do this all again later. Regretfully, I get up and practically run to the nearest music store my phone has found for me. I return with the music paper and resume my work.

I go on like this for the rest of the song, spending about three hours getting it to sound like it does in my head, writing all of it down as I go. It's a painful process, but it gives me a feeling of fulfillment stronger than anything else has.

* * *

Much later, finally satisfied, a dazed smile on my face, I stand up from the piano I've grown to love over the last few hours, and I start on my way home.

It was so good.

I want to play it for him.

I get to the dorm still engulfed in my happy haze and immediately go to ask him if he'd like to hear something. I think that now, feeling as good as I do, I'll play it the best I can, so I don't want to wait for tomorrow.

I don't find him anywhere downstairs, so I head to our room. I reach the door and hear his voice. Happy that I've found him, I'm about to open the door when I hear something that makes me pause. My name. He's talking about me.

I know I shouldn't- I _really_ shouldn't, but I want to know so badly. He seemed kind of fake when he told me that he didn't want to date, which, after thinking about it more, makes me think that maybe he's just not comfortable around me anymore. I want to hear what he doesn't think he can say to me, and, however bad it is, I sit down on the floor and lean on the wall next to the door, listening.

"I don't know what to think," John starts. "I mean, you agree that everything's been ridiculously dramatic, right? It's not just me?"

"No, it's not just you, mon ami," Lafayette responds. "It has been, although I would like to point out that it wasn't _completely_ his fault. He's not innocent, for sure, but it wasn't completely his fault."

"I know. But it was terrible for me, honestly. I hated it. I just don't want to go through anything like that again. And that was when I wasn't even dating him, I was just his friend."

"Yeah, I can understand that. You're not being unreasonable, if you think you are."

John let's out a relieved sigh.

"Thanks, Laf."

"No problem, mon ami, I want you to be happy."

I imagine that, during the pause that happens now, John has most likely thrown himself at Lafayette in a hug. I remember he used to do that to me.

"What about your feelings for him?" Laf asks a couple seconds later.

"Ugh. Those are even worse. I _really_ don't know about them. They're swirling around and turning and changing. Or at least they have been ever since the truth came out."

"Hm. Yeah, Well, do you think you've figured anything out since we started talking? If not, of course, it's fine, it'd be more surprising if you had, but I think it would be good for you to know what you're feeling."

John pauses for a long moment, thinking.

"Actually, yeah. You've helped a lot, in the figuring out, although I can't say exactly how happy I am with the outcome. I think I… I don't want to, but I think I still," he lets out a shuddering breath, "love him. A lot. Like, a very large amount that scares me more than I want it to."

"Oh, mon ami-"

Hearing John's declaration, I stop listening as the worried line between my brows smooths and my lips curve, and I'm suddenly beaming.

 _I have a chance!_

* * *

 **Thanks for reading and reviews and everything! And thanks for motivating me to write this, I'm really happy right now because of you people. Thanks!**


	27. Inside

**Hello squirrels!  
** **I think that's how I'm going to greet you all now, as that's what I've started calling people in real life.  
So I think I'm going to try to wrap up this story in the next few chapters (which might fail completely, considering that this is my first time ending such a long fic, but oh well) so that's the plan, and now all the squirrels know.  
** **And now, the chapter!**

* * *

The rest of my day is good. Nothing especially good, more than usual, happens after John's confession, but his confession alone was enough.

I go to sleep that night, content, the music of today playing in my head, developing a more happy tone. It plays and plays, lulling me to sleep, which I fall into with a small smile on my face.

* * *

I find myself waking in a strange place. Why am I not in my bed? Where am I, even?

I assess my situation because I'm kind of freaking out inside. I can tell that I'm lying flat on something hard and that I'm inside of a building of some sort.

I consider that maybe I should go back to sleep. That way, if I have to walk around, at least it'll be bright.

But how stupid is that? If there's something dangerous, it's more likely to hurt me in my sleep over the next few hours than in it now if I get up.

So I do.

As soon as I move, the room lights up, proving my earlier reasoning illegitimate.

It looks like I'm in some kind of empty conference room in a building that I don't recognize. I look at the door. It looks daunting.

But so does the room.

I think I might hear something outside of the door, which makes my decision for me. I'm staying in here.

I look around cautiously.

The room is empty at this point, but I have the feeling that won't last for long.

It's gotten hot in here. And _very_ bright

As I expected, someone enters the room while I'm looking away from the door. I spin around. It's James, followed closely by Thomas, Hercules, Lafayette, and Burr. Last to arrive is John.

They're all looking at me expectantly, and I don't know why. I try to smile at Lafayette, but he shoots me an accusing look.

"Why did you call us here, Alex?" asks James, tapping his foot impatiently.

"I did?"

They sneer at me, all synchronized, they're faces distorting to look nonhuman and hateful.

"Yes, have you already forgotten?" asks Thomas, scoffing.

I don't want to make them madder, so I pretend I know what I'm doing.

"Oh, no, I haven't. I was just confused for a second. Sorry…"

"If you have time to apologize, get on with it," Hercules puts in.

"Yeah, we don't have time for your failure in our lives," says Lafayette.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was going to…" I have no idea what to do, so I just kind of shrug.

Their impatience holds up. Burr uncrosses his legs and straightens up from leaning on the wall. Then, surprising me, he simply exits the room the room, and everyone follows him soon after.

John is the last to leave, and as he saunters out the door, he mutters something without looking at me, speaking under his so that I barely catch what he's says.

But I do.

"This was such a waste of my time. I wish I hadn't come."

I feel like such failure.

* * *

I wake up with a general bad feeling occupying my brain. I have traces of a terrible dream clinging to my mind but I can even remember what happened.

 _It's so nice when people don't seem to hate you._

My eyebrows furrow at the thought that just ran through my head. I don't know why I thought it. I've never had large problems with doubting if people like me. Not _too_ large, at least. But now I feel like that's a problem- a big one- and I don't know why.

I shiver in bed under the warm blankets, curling up into the fetal position and squeezing my eyes shut. I know that I have to get out of bed at some point but just the thought makes me curl up tighter and almost whimper.

I decide that, just for today, it's okay for me to sleep in. I do, after all, actually feel physically sick. My decision made, I sink back into a tense, fitful sleep.

* * *

I remember now, why I felt so bad waking up. I'm here again. This time I'm sitting on a cold, hard chair in a cold, empty room. I don't think it's the same room- the atmosphere is different- but it's definitely the same building.

I don't know how I know it, but I do, instantly as I gain consciousness. I'm sure of it.

I'm kind of beginning to hate this building.

Suddenly, I hear the door open. The same thing happens as last time, with one big difference: no one is looking at me at all.

At first I'm relieved, until this continues for longer than it should. A couple of minutes pass and it's like I'm invisible, unnoticeable to everyone in the room.

This continues and I start to feel a little bit desperate. I get up from my immobile spot on a chair and walk up to Lafayette. I pat him on the shoulder, greeting him.

He doesn't react in the slightest way.

I smile confusedly, going up to Hercules and doing the same thing.

Nothing happens.

I'm scared.

I run up to everyone else in the room, eventually resorting to shaking John by the shoulders and yelling in his ear.

No one acknowledges me, no one sees me, no one notices me.

I begin to scream and stop myself. Then, remembering that no one will hear it, I let it out.

I feel so small

* * *

"Alex? Hurry up and get out of bed!"

I wake up suddenly. I try to follow the request of whoever spoke, exerting all of the energy I have, trying to get up.

I can't.

* * *

Again.

I don't want to get up anymore. It's dark and I can tell, somehow, that I'm alone again.

I force myself to get up, against my wishes, so that I can get whatever is about to happen over with.

As I thought, I'm alone, the room is empty, and I know it's going to stay this way. This is almost a relief, honestly, after what's happened, but I'm not sure what I'm going to go through now. It could be worse.

Through everything, I feel an overwhelming loneliness permeating my being, darkening my thoughts and making my every fiber want to stop doing things and just take a break from life.

I look closer at how the room is different. I notice some cards on the table at each seat with writing I can barely make out through the darkness, but when I go closer, I'm able to read them as I bring them right up to my face.

All of them have names.

 _James Madison_

 _Thomas Jefferson_

 _Hercules Mulligan_

 _Marquis De Lafayette_

 _John Laurens_

Even _Aaron Burr_

An emptiness takes over my thoughts.

It shouldn't matter this much but…

There's no place for me at the table.

The worst of the three dreams:

I feel so alone.

* * *

 **Thanks for reading, and reviews/favorites/follows would be great!  
**


	28. My Song

**I'm thinking only a couple more chapters left at this point, maybe even just one, so thanks to everyone who's read this far!  
You're all the best!**

* * *

I finally wake up late in the day to someone pulling off my blanket. All I can do is try to curl up tighter- which almost doesn't seem to work in my slightly delirious state- and hope they put it back soon.

"He really doesn't look good, and he's been sleeping all day. Maybe he's sick?"

"Could be." There's a pause. "Man, he really looks terrible."

"Hey," I feel someone tap my shoulder gently after a pause, "Are you feeling sick?"  
I try to grunt but I'm not sure if any noise comes out.

"Woah, wait, look at his face." They pull me blanket off further. "He's so red. I mean, he's practically steaming. I'm not even sure he's hearing us. And he's not moving at all." Suddenly, their tone turns urgent. "He's breathing, right?" They pause. "Sorry, sorry. I overreacted; I can see his chest moving. Sorry. I'm just worried."

"Hey, it's alright. I am too. But you should try to calm down. He's going to be fine, I'm sure. People get sick all the time. And then they recover."

"Yeah, you're right. But we should check his temperature. Can you go find the thermometer?"

"Are you sure we have one?"  
"I think we do. Check, at least. Okay?"

"Yeah, sure, I'll go now."

I hear footsteps and the door closes.

"Oh, Alex," they say, almost too inaudibly for me to hear. Then, even quieter, I hear a gentle but halted intake of breath. It sounds like they're fighting the urge to sob. It flashes in a corner of my brain that this isn't good. I don't want… him? Yeah, it's a him- to cry. But the corner is too far tucked away for me to notice it, so the part of my that wants so badly to comfort him is ignored.

He sits in silence as I lie- restless inside but unable to move- on the bed.

"John? I found it," someone calls from outside of the room.

I hear John startle at the sudden noise, but my brain is working quickly now.

It's John- John, who I care about, who I love.

Suddenly I want to get up, badly.

The door opens as I try to make some part of my body move. Now that I actually want to, I find that it isn't all that hard. I stretch my arm towards John a little bit, turning my head as much as I can towards his voice.

"He's moving!"  
"Woah, John, relax. That's great, but we knew that was going to happen."  
"Oh. Yeah. Totally."

"John."

John doesn't answer.

I move my arms and head more urgently. I feel like I need to hug away his doubts. I try to open my eyes after a second or two and find that it's not impossible, if a little bit bright in the room.

In a croaking voice, I try to murmur John's name.

"Jo-" is all that comes out, but it's all he needs.

John's voice becomes animated again.

"Did he just say something? Hercules, hurry up!"

"What? Checking his temperature faster isn't going to do anything."

"That's- whatever! Please hurry!"

John sounds so excited, and I find myself smiling, which he, of course, notices.

"He's smiling!"

"John, _chill out_."

"Hercules, I refuse!" He still sounds so happy, and I inwardly shake me head at him, smiling more widely.

"Fine- I'll just- Okay, okay, I'm hurrying!"

Suddenly, I feel him shove something cold inside of my ear. I immediately frown and my back involuntarily straightens. I find myself sitting up, my eyebrows furrowed, nose scrunched, and mouth down-turned.

"Hercules!" I exclaim. "Was that really necessary?"

John and Hercules stare at me blankly in silence at me for a couple of seconds, before bursting out in laughter simultaneously.

"Alex," Hercules says in between wheezes, "Of _course_ that's how you wake up."

"What?" I reply. "It felt gross."

"Uhuh, I'm sure it did," replies John, still laughing. "Can we actually take your temperature now?"

I frown, not wanting to go through that again.

"Fine."

Hercules takes me temperature successfully this time, my face showing extreme discomfort the whole time.

"You're temperature is barely even above normal. That paired with how quickly you recovered, makes me wonder. Do _you_ think you were sick?"  
"I did feel pretty crappy."  
"That," John says, "doesn't always have to do with whether or not someone is sick."

"That's true," Hercules agrees.

"Yeah," I concede. "I don't know. I'm feeling fine now, anyways, so I don't think you two need to worry."

"If you say so," says John.

I can tell he doesn't buy it, but I try to ignore that.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"It's almost six by now," says Herc, checking his watch.

"What? That's crazy!"

"Yeah," John says, muttering afterwards, "and you think we don't need to worry."

"It's fine, John. I'm okay. And now I don't feel sick in any way, so even if I wasn't fine then, I am now."

"Yeah okay, sorry. You just looked like you were so uncomfortable and in pain and I kind of freaked out."

"I understand. That's actually kind of nice, so thanks."

He smiles at me warmly.

"You're welcome."

* * *

After the day of my three dreams, I try to just be a good friend to John, as much as I can. He's a person too, after all, with needs and fears, and I need to respect that. Plus, I can always remember his confession when I'm feeling particularly bad, and it gives me hope.

He warms up to me slowly, hopefully seeing that now I want to him happy instead of use him to heighten my own happiness, however nice that sounds.

Getting closer to him and seeing him happy, making him happy sometimes even, brings a warmth into my life that wasn't there before. But since I'm trying, now, to focus on him and his happiness, I find that I'm telling him less and less about me and what I want, what I'm feeling.

Soon, I have an extremely large repertoire of things inside of me that no one else knows and that I don't feel comfortable telling anybody anymore. It's like I'm saving up things to tell John when we're close enough for me to do that, but when so many things are swirling inside of me with no release, it hurts.

So I take to the piano. Instead of telling people through words, I develop my song from the day I heard John confess, hoping that it will at least kind of convey to anyone who hears it what I'm feeling. It's a strange thing to think that anyone who listens to my song could instantly understand something so extremely _me,_ but I really think that they could.

I add to it, day by day, and it gets longer and more complicated as time goes on, discord and sadness ruling it with only wisps of happiness hidden within. But this doesn't bother me- just playing the song itself makes me more happy than most things do after I've worked on it for a while.

I get the craziest idea one day, that makes absolutely no sense but that I know needs to happen, somehow.

He needs to hear it.

My song.

* * *

 **Thank you thank you thank you for reading, and everything else! This story has really meant a lot in my life and to me and you're all the reason why it still exists. Thank you!**


	29. Advice

**So, this will probably be the second to last chapter, or I might have two more after this, but either way it'll be ending soon.  
I'm gonna miss it, I think.  
I'll probably start a new multi-chapter fic after taking a break for a while.  
Anyways, I want to thank you all profusely again. Thank you so much! You've all been great!  
Thank youuuuuuuu!**

* * *

I try to gather up the courage to ask him to listen to it for about a week. There too many times to count when I psyche myself up, approach him, and practically tap him on the shoulder or even start a conversation, and then, right when I'm planning to tell him, something happens that gives me a (practically nonexistent or just really bad) excuse to run away and put it off until later.

By the weekend, I'm pretty mad at myself. Why can't I just do it? It's not as if someone is forcing me to, I want to do it myself! It was my idea after all. Even so, I find that trying to tell him seems harder than anything I've done so far in my life. I can recognize that it clearly isn't (considering my childhood, it's not even competition) but it certainly seems to be.

I find myself sitting quietly in the lobby alone one day, just thinking. My plan is to tell John today, but that's been my plan every day since I came up with the idea, so I doubt it's really going to happen. I want it to, though. I've been going to play the piano for hours at a time almost every day because of how frustrated I am at myself, and my song's been developing because of it. I like it now even more than I did when I wanted to play it for John first, and I'm just… There's absolutely no reason for me not to show him, so why haven't I?!

It's kind of making me hate myself.

Suddenly, I hear the main doors open. At this time of day, everyone's usually asleep or just hanging out in their rooms, so I have to wonder who it could be. I look towards the doors, where I see someone I dimly recognize. I can't remember exactly who it is.

Oh, that's right. It's the landlord… Washington, I think.

"Hello son, how are you doing?"  
I'm kind of irked that, during his first words exchanged with me, he feels familiar enough to call me son.

"I'm not your son," I mutter under my breath. He shows no signs of hearing me so I give up and try to be civil. "I'm doing… fine, I guess. You?"  
"Oh I'm doing great. You look like you need someone to talk to, son."

However true that might be, I'm a little creeped out that he's being so friendly.

"Oh… why?"

"Well, I know you're friends with those troublesome three, right? And since we're pretty close, I've, well, first, I know some about the drama that happened with you. Anyways, since that, I've noticed that they're all kind of self absorbed. And completely separate from that, you look really pensive and sad, and there's no one here, so I figured I'd offer my advice or just company. I live to serve your generation, the next leaders, after all."

I gape at him.

"You- wait, what?"

He looks at me strangely.

"Need I really repeat that all again?"

"No, no, I heard you, I'm just… surprised."

"Oh. Okay. Well. What do you think? Maybe I should just leave, I guess I could've come off a bit too strong."

Looking at the kind of sad older man in front of me, I find that I want to entertain his idea that I need someone to talk to.

"No! I mean, you don't have to leave if you don't want to. We can… talk."

He looks at me so proudly I'm almost tempted to just run away, but I stay on the couch, scared of what I've gotten myself into.

"I knew I could trust you, son."

"Uh, yeah. Sure."

He plops down next to me on the couch, a respectful but not cold distance away.

"So son, what do you want to tell me?"

What am I supposed to say to that? I didn't even want to talk in the first place.

Yet…

"Well, um… Do you, uh, mind if I- no, no, nevermind."

"What is it son?"

"Well, along with all the other drama, there was also some… well, romance, but I doubt you want to hear about that, so I'll talk about something else."

"No, you mentioned it before anything else so it's clearly important and if you're comfortable sharing, I want to hear whatever you have to say."

I feel strangely comforted.

"Okay, well… I'm just not sure if-"

"Oh come on, son! Just get on with it! I'm assuming it has to do with John, so you can start there."

"Wait, how do you- you shouldn't- what?"

"Continue."

Huh.

"Okay, well, as you said, I am kind of majorly in love with John. Wait, no, I wasn't supposed to say that I- I just like John, nothing more. Nothing at all."

"Right."

"You don't sound convinced. Oh well, just know that I'm telling the truth. Anyways, for a while before the drama we were kind of maybe getting closer to dating and it was super awesome and then everything went to crap. So now, he doesn't trust me and I'm trying to just be friends, at his request. Which is fine, mind you, he has every right to ask that of me, but I just don't feel like I've been having anyone to talk to," why am I proving this practically-a-stranger's point? "and everything I've been feeling has slowly been bottled up and I kind of feel like exploding. Constantly. So kind of as a release I've been developing this song that I've composed on the piano and playing it all the time and it kind of makes me feel better but kind of doesn't. So anyways, for a while I've wanted to play it for John but I'm kind of terrified to do that so I haven't yet, although I've come kinda close many, many times," I've been talking extremely fast and pause now to take a breath, "But I feel like if I did it, everything would magically fix itself and I don't know why but I really do feel like that. And I just-"

"So then you should play it for him."

I've almost forgotten I was talking to someone at this point, and startle at Washington's interjection.

"What?"

"You should play it."

"Yeah, I know."

"You seem like you're hesitant to, and that's why you haven't-"

"I'm pretty sure I'm just scared-"

"-but I think, for you, the right thing to do is just to play it for him. Follow your gut. I can't honestly give you any better advice."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

We sit in silence for a couple of minutes, my mind whirling.

"Well, son, I think it's about time for me to go, and for you to do what is right for you," says Washington, getting up slowly.

"Oh, okay. Bye."

"Bye, son."

As he leaves, I call out just loud enough for him to hear, "Thank you."

I see him smiling smugly as he exits.

* * *

Later that day, apparently on a roll with crazy ideas that I want to attempt execution of, a thought occurs to me. Just for myself, I want to hear my song on a good piano, because I still haven't, and I feel like that could really change its general feel/sound/whatever. So I hatch a plot blacker than the kettle calling the pot- I mean, what? What I really do is decide that, sometime when nobody is in the dorm (perhaps when a party is going on or something) I'll quickly play it and stop before anyone comes, just so that I can hear what it could sound like on a piano as magnificent as the one is this dorm.

Conveniently, within the next week, there's a giant party (actually it's not really surprising; I told Lafayette that he should throw a party and he jumped at the chance) which I get out of by simply pretending to be sick.

As everyone leaves, I sit in bed, thinking about how fun it's going to be to play the piano.

When I'm pretty sure the dorm is empty, I get out of bed and creep downstairs, taking care to look sick in case someone's still here. For good measure, I yell out to the dorm, "Could anyone get me some water if they're here? I'm sick."

When no one answers, I let out a nervous breath and approach the piano.

When I sit down, I feel my heart settle at the same time as it starts doing flips and loopty-loops. It's an… interesting feeling. I kind of grow to like it, actually, as I continue to sit.

I realize that I've just spent a ton of time sitting on the piano bench without doing anything, and tentatively play my hands on the keys.

I'm filled with an overwhelming happiness, and relish in it for a few seconds, before beginning the song.

When I come out of the life-changing experience known to me as "playing the piano", I'm dazed, as always, but I also feel more peaceful than I have in a long time.

I smile and sigh, relaxing into the bench under me.

"Woah."

I immediately straighten up, shooting off the bench almost into the air.

"What?" I gasp out.

My head swivels around as I look for the source of the voice. It's not very hard to find, and I see Hercules sitting on the couch close to me within seconds.

"Herc? What are you doing here?"

"What, Alex. You're sick. Of course someone stayed home. I went to see everyone off and came back about fifteen minutes ago."

So he managed to sneak in while I was marveling at my heart's strange activities.

"That was some song," he says, forcing me to think about what he might think now.

"Yeah, sure… Yeah."

"Who's it by?"

Crap. I was really hoping he wouldn't ask that.

I consider giving him a fake name, but there're so many ways that could go wrong and besides that, I want to stop lying so much.

"Well… me."

"You? Alex, that's _really_ good. Like, _really, really_ good."

"Uh, thanks?"

"You're welcome. Did you write that recently?"

"Yeah, I've been working on it. It's kind of been developing with my life, so it's changing constantly."

"First, why haven't I heard it? And-"

"I haven't played it for anyone yet. On purpose. You weren't supposed to hear it. That's why I waited till I thought everyone was gone."

"Oh. Okay, well second, is it really supposed to represent your life?"

"I mean, no exactly, but-" At his look, I admit it. "Yeah."

He plops down on the couch and doesn't speak for a while.

"Alex, I hate to say it, but your life sounds really," I'm worried, but maybe I can use this as some kind of test run, "complicated, and sad. Mostly sad, honestly."

Oh.


	30. Musical Close

**Wow, okay. The last chapter. This is honestly amazing for me. Also, super intense and new and cool and kind of overall "squeeeee". It is, after all, my first ending of anything as long as this has been. And as good.**  
 **I'm going to miss writing this, so much, but I'm hoping that I'll be able to start something else soon (Scorbus, anyone? Am I talking to theater people and probably not Harry Potter fans? Yes, but will they maybe read it anyways? I mean, maybe if they like me enough...) and I'm also starting an account on ao3, with the same username, if you want to find me, so I'll post stuff there too.**  
 **And I'm going to miss you all, so much, too. You've all been the best reason I could have for writing this fic, and you really _have_ been the reason. I'm super grateful to every single darn one of you. Thank you. So much. ****_So much.  
_** **(This whole long this is at the beginning because I feel like good end lines, which mine aspire to be (yes, I know it was pretty crappy, but I tried and it's my first time so I think I should get slack), are better left to be the actual end, so I'm putting this here instead of there.)  
Okay, I'll shut up and let you read the chapter you're hopefully excited to read.  
Bye!**

* * *

I go to sleep that night mourning the fact that my plan will no longer work. After all, I can't just bombard John with sadness and expect him to jump into my arms. But, despite this, I, for some reason, _still_ want to play it for him.

When I wake up the next morning, I find that telling him seems much less hard. It's almost like- no, it is- that since the plan has no hope of working, there isn't the pressure to perform it perfectly. I don't have to worry about it succeeding, because I know it can't, and that makes it easier.

So today, for the first time, I have an actually legitimate plan to play my song for him. And, not too far into the day, it becomes a reality.

"Hey, John?"

"Yeah, what?" He looks over at me from him place on the couch next to me. We're both reading, just enjoying each other's company.

"Well, I… I've been," I decide to not make it out to be as big as it seems to me, because I'm pretty sure that's just me, "I've been playing a song that I, well, I may or may not have composed," I smile at him.

"Alex, that's amazing! I wanna hear it! Can I, please? Please?"

I didn't anticipate this.

I probably should've, considering that it's John I've been thinking about all this time, but I figured that he'd be indifferent and I'd have to force him to come with me. But if I actually think about it, John's much too nice to do that to me.

He must see the indecision on my face.

"Or you don't have to, of course. I wouldn't force you to, if you're not comfortable. I can just forget about it… Sorry for prying."

He manages to get this all out before I can respond in my surprised state, and I'm eager to repair the damage.

"No, no, that's not… No, I want to play it for you. I just didn't think…" I trail off and kind of whisper to myself, "that you'd really want to."

He pauses for a second.

"Well of course I would. We're friends," He starts to blush and says, even quieter than I did earlier, so quiet I can't hear it, "If not more…" Then, returning to normal volume, he continues, "So, when do you want to play it?"

Since I hadn't expected such a good reaction, I'm getting excited to play now, and I find myself blurting out, happily, "How about now?"

John looks at me a second before bursting into laughter.

"Yeah, sure. I'd love that. I'm glad you want to play it so much."

I feel like maybe I should be embarrassed, but I'm too happy for that even to be a possibility.

"I'm kind of super excited." I say shyly, running my hands through my hair. "This is the first time I've played it for anybody." This is assuming I don't count the time Hercules heard it, which I don't, because that was unintentional on my part.

When I bring myself to look at John again, I see his face has changed to being mostly surprised, and kind of happy.

"Wow, I'm honored," he says, "Really."

I just smile shyly at him sideways, and quickly walk over to the piano. I look at it for a second, suddenly nervous, before sitting down.

I'm almost unsure about playing it now that I'm here… after all, it's so personal. And it changes every time and sometimes it isn't even good and I'm not sure- no! No, I need to play it. I know I do.

Unable to completely shake my doubts, I put my hands on the piano, ghosting the first few notes, to make sure I still know what I'm doing. I do, so I take one last deep breath.

The first note resonates within me, swirling around and forcing out a strong wave of emotion. This wave carries me for a long time, before I feel the mood of the song slowly shift, and with it, so does mine. I'm smiling brilliantly at nothing, my eyes lazily open, hair covering part of my vision. More changes wrench more feelings out of me, and I find that there really are so many. I've never noticed it before, but it's amazing how many different things I can gather about myself just from how the song is sounding.

I feel more in tune with myself playing this song for John now than I ever have in my memory.

I finish with a bang, adding a couple of dramatic measures to the ending that, somehow, I know will sound great. They do.

After my flourishing finish, I don't know what to do. I'm sure I put enough feeling into the song that John must know everything, but I'm just not sure if he wants to. Will he _like_ what I'm trying to say? I have no confidence within my that he will. Not really.

But I have hope.

I stay still, looking at the piano, hoping that he'll say something so I don't have to. I wait patiently.

And wait.

Nothing.

I wait some more.

Nothing.

Finally, I accept that I have to make the first move.

But as soon as I move my head the slightest bit towards him, I hear him move quickly. My head flips towards him just as he runs out the door.

I'm confused.

What just happened?

Did he just… run away?

He did, didn't he.

* * *

I sit numbly on the piano for what seems like it could be hours, until I hear someone come in. I look up, hoping that it might be someone I'm close with so that I can talk to them about what happened, but it's only someone I've seen once or twice, so I look away again. I resume sitting until someone else comes in, and this time it's someone I at least know a little bit, so I make myself try to get up.

"Hey, Burr."

"Alex."

"I have… a question. Or a statement, maybe. But I'd like input if you have any."

"Okay, sure. Tell me."

"Well, you see… Let's start with my song. That is to say, I have a song, which I composed and like, and today, I played it for the first time to somebody. To John, more specifically. He was excited at the beginning but when I finished, he… Well, he kind of just left. Walked quickly out of the door, and confused me a lot. What do you think?"

He kind of snorts and looks down for a moment.

"Hamilton," he starts, looking up again, "I have no idea how to solve your love life. Just go talk to him. That's all the advice I have."

I frown.

"Everyone's advice for me seems to just be that I should do stuff. What if I don't want to? The whole reason I'm asking for advice is to avoid that."

"Well, it's good advice a lot of the time. So go follow it, and spare us all by finally dating John. Really, I'm sure we'd all appreciate it."

I look at him petulantly. "Fine." I sigh. "I guess it wouldn't kill me to date him. For you, Burr, for you."

He looks at me dryly and I wink. As he shakes his head, I see a small smile slip onto his face. With that, I exit the dorm and set off the find John.

* * *

It's surprisingly hard. I don't know where to look, so I kind of wander around outside, waiting for something in my brain to click. It tries to a couple of times, producing no results when I check the places, before I realize where he must be.

I try to remember how to get to where I'm going, and set off the find his shed of drawings.

When I arrive, as I expected, I see that the door is open to let light in, and I can faintly hear him inside.

I pause before the door, wondering if I should really go in. Will he just think I'm invading his privacy?

But I need to talk, so I push open the door gently and softly call out, "John?"

He looks up from position on the floor. He's drawing something that I try to see but can't because, as he quickly gets up, he also hides it behind his back.

"What?"

"Nothing. What're you drawing?"

"Nothing," he says.

We stand in silence for a long moment.

"Sorry to walk out on you like I did earlier," he finally says, his silence breaking.

"Oh," I say, surprised. "That's alright. Why- why did you?"

"Well, I was just… surprised, I guess. Very surprised."

"Why?"

"When you said that you'd composed a song," he says, making me I tense. Here it comes. "I wasn't expecting something so- so good, first of all, but even more so… emotional. It kind of scared me, having what seemed like everything you've been feeling laid out in front of me like that."

I think for a moment.

"Imagine what I felt like," I say smiling.

"True… It must've been terrifying."

"Extremely."

"Well, anyways, I needed time to think, so I came here and started drawing."

"Okay. Well thanks for telling me. What're you drawing?"

"Oh, something I draw a lot. Someone important to me."

"Cool."

We stand again in a warmer silence this time, out smiles slowly relaxing as we think.

"Hey, Alex? Are you okay?"

I consider this question for a moment. He seems to be worried that I have to, but I just want to be sure of my answer.

"Yeah, I think I am," I say finally.

"Good."

He starts to approach me, and I realize that he's going to hug me. As he comes closer, I see the picture still grasped in his hand. I can easily recognize who it is-

"Good," he says again.

Me.


End file.
